


Take Me, Slow and Furious . . .

by e1ziz



Category: Fast & Furious (Movies)
Genre: American Muscle, Angst, Car Sex, Complete, Deep genuine love and affection, Drift Racing, Everyone Is Gay, Ex Drama, Exes, Fluff and Angst, Lesbian Letty Ortiz, Los Angeles, M/M, Plot, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Street Racing, city of angels, fuck 12
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:09:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24497002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e1ziz/pseuds/e1ziz
Summary: Dominic Toretto and Brian O'Conner are kings of the street racing world, their love for cars only outmatched by their love for each other. But when two mysterious figures show up in LA claiming to have a past with Dom's father, they throw a wrench in the lives and loves of Toretto and his teammates. With only three days to wrack up enough money to repay his father's debt, Dom and his crew have to hit the streets with everything they've got. But will it be enough to steer them away from a crash and burn? With their love and everything they've worked for on the line, Dominic and Brian have to race to save their family.
Relationships: Brian O'Conner/Dominic Toretto
Comments: 8
Kudos: 109





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after the first movie.

**Chapter 1**

* * *

_There’s nothing like the smell of exhaust and burning rubber_ , Dominic Toretto thought as he eased his foot off the clutch and accelerated into third gear. The needle inched toward 120. He glanced in his rearview mirror, only to see a car materialize from the heat waves that rose out of the California asphalt. It was bright green and it meant business.

“Your face is gonna look so cute when I smoke you,” came a voice through the radio on the seat next to him. A smile crept across Dom’s features, just as the speedometer needle crept to 140.

“You’ll have to catch me first,” Dom whispered seductively into his walkie talkie.

“Be careful what you wish for.”

His thumbs hovering over the NOS buttons on the steering wheel, Dom pictured Brian O’Conner’s furrowed brow resting above his ocean blue eyes. _He’s gonna hold out for as long as possible, so I will too_. Racing each other hadn’t lost its thrill after all these months, even if some of the surprise had worn off.

But just then, Brian’s engine roared to life, and Dom watched, agape, as he was quickly overtaken. _It’s now or never_. Holding his breath, Dom pressed both NOS buttons at once. Like a rocket cleared for takeoff, Dom’s Toyota Supra flew down the road, covering the lead Brian had managed in less than a second. _Guess I’m finally getting used to this thing_. The Supra was the first Toyota Dom had driven by choice, being more partial to American muscle himself. But when Brian had handed Dom the keys to save him from the police, it became the most valuable ride on the road.

Toretto looked in the rearview mirror at the shocked face of the man who was all his. He laughed and turned back to the steering wheel, only to feel the car lurch into deceleration.

“No...no, no, no!” The double burst of gas had put too much pressure on the engine. Dom would be forced to bring the car to a stop. With his strong, practiced hands, he led the orange flame onto the shoulder. Through the mirror he saw a green blaze speed over the hill and pull up behind him.

_Not such a bad race to lose_ , Dom thought as he watched O’Conner open the door, duck up out of the car, and run his fingers through his boyish golden hair. Brian took his time sauntering over to the passenger side of the Toyota, his thumbs hooked on his belt loops, pulling down the waistline of his pants ever so slightly. He glanced up at the late evening sun, which bathed him in its rich light.

Dom shook his head and laughed at Brian’s victory lap. The racer was a sore winner for sure, but Dom was infatuated with every moment of it. He lowered the passenger window as the blond approached. “You got lucky, O’Conner,” he teased.

Brian leaned down and stuck his head into the car, resting his forearms on the windowsill. He tilted his head up at the rugged face with a glint in his eye. “I seem to remember something a very sexy racer once told me… It doesn’t matter if you win by an inch or a mile. Winning’s winning.” Dom smirked at his own words repeated back to him. He remembered every second of the night they had first raced. Dom had won, of course, but Brian’s passion and creativity had caught his attention.

“Now hold on.” Toretto wasn’t ready to concede just yet. “That wasn’t a fair race. I’m thinking you got something a little extra under that hood.” His eyes couldn’t help but wander to the place where Brian’s waist narrowed and his body bent. “I better take a look down there.” He threw the door open and rose out. The golden sun shone through his white T-shirt, illuminating the bulging muscles underneath. He strode around the front of the Supra, pausing at a black streak on the hood. Lifting his T-shirt to expose a six pack, Dom rubbed the smudge away.

“Looks ready to ride, don't it?” Dom said in a low tone. He walked up to where Brian was leaning against the frame, placed a hand on each of the other man’s hips, and brought his face in.

“Too bad you blew the engine trying to impress me. I wish we knew somebody who could fix it up.” Brian whispered the tease in Dom’s ear.

“Yeah, too bad...” Dom pressed his lips against Brian’s and felt the ignition key turn in his heart. Brian clutched Dom’s firm biceps, clearly ready to kick into a higher gear, but Dom pulled back.

“You’re not off the hook yet, cowboy.” Stripping off his shirt, Dom turned and walked back to the green Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution VII. Tossing his shirt to the side of the road, Dom lifted the hood of the car, revealing a shining 2.0 Liter DOHC 4G63 engine.

“This doesn’t look half bad. How’d a fella like you get such a good mechanic?” He glanced over his shoulder and winked.

“Must be my looks,” Brian replied. His eyes wandered up Dom’s muscular arm, which was effortlessly holding up the hood like it was tin foil, not 100 pounds of top grade steel. Toretto had turned back to the pipes in front of him and was fiddling with an exhaust nob. _Is he really gonna start working on the car?_ But O’Conner couldn’t be annoyed with his lover, not when he was feeling this much desire. The blond leaned in, interrupting Dom’s focus with a passionate kiss.

Distracted by Brian’s tongue in his mouth, Toretto released his grip on the car hood, letting it slam down onto the frame. He snaked his arms around Brian’s hips and lifted him onto the Mitsubishi, keeping his legs against Brian to pin him to the car. Brian relished the way his strong eyebrows framed his deep brown eyes and the crease that appeared in his cheeks when he smiled.

Toretto leaned down and breathed into Brian’s neck, running his left hand through that golden hair. Brian lifted his hands around Dom’s thick neck and sighed in exasperation.

“Jesus, babe, do you have to keep wrenches in your pocket at all times?” Brian asked.

Dom chuckled. “That’s not a wrench.”

The sun had set below the California hills by the time they had gotten enough of each other, leaving a softly glowing horizon in the hazy night sky. Dom lay on the hood with his hands clasped behind his head, and Brian was laid out against his side.

“God, compared to the city you can practically see the Milky Way out here,” Dom said, looking up. “Makes ya feel small.”

_He’s much more of a thinker than he lets on,_ Brian looked admiringly at his lover as he propped himself up on an elbow.

“What?” Dom gave a sly smile to Brian. He was still shocked every time he saw this amazing man look at him with love in his eyes.

“It’s nice to get some time to ourselves,” Brian mused.

“Sure is.”

Suddenly, the walkie talkie that had been left abandoned on the Lancer seat crackled to life.

It was Leon’s voice on the airwaves. “Dom, Brian, where the hell are you guys? We’re gonna be late.”

The urgency was met with groans from the two men.

“Duty calls,” Brian quipped as he rose. “We’ll deal with your French fry of a car in the morning. I’m driving.” He buttoned his pants, pulled on his shirt, and slid behind the wheel of the Evo. Dom sighed. He rolled off the hood and grabbed his own shirt from the side of the road.

Brian turned the key, smiling as the engine roared a greeting. Dom slid his hand across the center console and against Brian’s inner thigh. _Let’s hope I don’t get pulled over for distracted driving_ , Brian thought, stealing one final look at the love of his life before peeling back onto the freeway.

Brian shifted gears and exited the 101. The shining streets and glistening skyscrapers made up the City of Angels, but once darkness settled, it became the City of Racers. Dozens of super cars lined the block where owners and fans alike hung around, illuminated by tail lights and street lights, flirting and trash talking. Girls in mini-skirts and bralettes strutted by and riders looked up from their precious engines to catch a glance.

All the activity stopped when Brian pulled the Mitsubishi into a throng of people. 

“It’s Toretto and O’Conner! Now we can get this party really started.” “Alright!” Cheers erupted from the crowd, along with some whispers and gapes. No race dared to start without the veritable kings present. 

Letty Ortiz, Dom’s business partner and ex-lover, strode up to the car. “It’s about time you two showed up,” she teased, resting her arm on the top of their car and peering in at Brian. She had a black rag for last minute touch ups tucked into the back pocket of her low-rise, grey studded skinny jeans. Letty liked to look good when she raced. 

“Hit some traffic,” Brian offered, winking at Dom.

“Mhmm. I’ll bet.”

Dom leaned across Brian to talk to Letty. “Did you bring her?” He enjoyed driving around in the Toyota, but when it came down to real racing, he always drove American.

“‘Course. Tessa drove your precious baby up from the shop.” Letty turned around to wave at her girlfriend relaxing in the front seat of Dom’s 1970 Dodge Charger R/T, her work boots resting on the dashboard and her smoking hand hanging out the window. She wore a pair of green coveralls and a red bandana in her black hair. Tessa nodded her head back at her lady and smirked at Dom. The racer looked at her in horror as Letty and Brian snickered. 

“I swear to God. . .” Dom jumped out of the car and stalked over to his beloved vehicle, muttering something about smoking and respect for vintage models. Unable to hold their amusement in any longer, Letty and Brian laughed amicably. 

“What car you got today, Letty?” The twenty-year-old had been sticking her nose under the hoods of cars since she was ten, and Brian didn’t know anyone with a better mechanic’s eye than her. 

“I’m trying out my Mazda RX-7,” Letty answered, excitedly. “Takin’ her for a test spin. I worked out some kinks and I think she’s gonna be a real smooth ride.”

“Can’t wait to see her fly,” Brian flashed a genuine smile. 

“You racin’ today?” Letty asked. 

“Nah. I’ve already won enough for today.” 

Letty rolled her eyes and slapped the top of the Lancer. “Wish me luck!” She said over her shoulder as she walked away. 

“You don’t need it,” Brian called after her. He climbed out of the car and walked over to a crowd gathered around a Mitsubishi Eclipse. Perched over the open driver’s door, and basking in the attention, was Hector. 

The esteemed street racer smiled at Brian. “Hey man, how’s the Evo?” 

“Not too bad, Hector,” Brian said, eyeing the open hood of the Eclipse, which exhibited shining pipes and gears. “Hope this serves you better than it ever served me.”

“Ha! I forgot you drove one of these into the ground. Don’t worry, bro, I fitted this beauty out with all new alloy pedals. She’s got cat-like reflexes, nothin’ like that green turtle you had.” Hector flashed a grin at a group of girls walking by. “And what’s more, take a look at this shiny-ass monitor,” He beamed, pointing to a glistening screen sitting up in the passenger’s seat. Brian raised his eyebrows.

“Where’d you get such a fine piece of machinery?” Brian suspected he knew the answer. 

“Hey now, I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re thinkin’. I bought it fair and square from these tall Swedish dudes. They were kinda scary, man. Ain’t fuckin’ with those boys again.” Hector got a far away, disturbed look in his eyes, but then shook it off. “But I sure got a good deal for it.”

Brian laughed. “Swedish guys? How bad can they be?” 

“Take a look for yourself, white boy,” Hector was staring over Brian’s shoulder now. “Looks like they’re goin’ for your man over there.” He motioned behind Brian, who turned to see two large Scandinavian men stalking up to Dom. His beautiful sculpted figure was leaning against the black car, chatting with Tessa about the state of downpipes.

Brian’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll be right back.”

“Be careful, man,” Hector said, but Brian was too concerned with what was happening around the Dodge Charger.

“Toretto!” One of the Swedes barked, startling Dom from his relaxed stance. Brian sped up his walk. Dom turned around to face the two men and arched an eyebrow. 

“Something I can help you gentlemen with?” The strong racer placed a protective hand on the hood of the Dodge. The men’s gazes followed his hand and then studied the sleek frame. 

“I see you continued the work that your father left,” smirked the other Swede. He had high cheekbones and a mullet so blond it was almost white.

Dom’s fists clenched at his side and his jaw tightened. “Yeah? And what would you know about my father?” For years, Dom had been too traumatized from his father’s violent death to even touch the vehicle he had crashed in. But when Brian entered his life, he had given Dom new courage and the strength to reconnect with the memory of his father. Now these strange men whom Dom had never seen in his life were dredging up painful memories. 

Brian reached his lover and rested a comforting hand on his back. “We got a problem here?” He asked. He hadn’t taken his eyes off the two men since Hector pointed them out, but now he took a second to study Dom’s tense expression. 

“I was just asking these gentlemen what they could possibly know about my father and this car,” Dom offered, trying to keep his tone calm. 

The first Swede chuckled. He was not as shockingly blond as his companion, and a deep scar zig-zagged across his left cheek. “Only the story of his pitiful death,” he leered.

“You fucker–” Brian’s body reacted instinctively, sending his fist racing toward the Swede’s face. His supercar punch crashed into a cheekbone and the man skidded across the asphalt. The second stranger took one look at his buddy on the ground, blood gushing from his nose, and ran full speed at Brian. He threw a punch that the blond managed to duck, but a second blow caught Brian in the jaw. He staggered back and the scarred Swede crashed into him, grabbing him by the waist and bringing him straight to the ground. Brian felt a sharp pain in his spine as he hit the street. He lay there in shock for a moment, unable to hear more than hums and see more than blurs, but the urgent sound of someone calling his name snapped him back into focus. It was Dom. In the nick of time, Brian shoved the Swede who had started to bear down on him and socked the Scandinavian square in the face, downing him in one blow. Both strangers lay sprawled out on the ground among the skid marks.

Brian rose quickly and turned in the circle that had formed around him and the two groaning bodies, finding Dom rushing toward him. 

“Are you okay, baby?” Brian asked once his projecting blue eyes had settled on Dom’s shocked expression. 

“Am _I_ okay? Shit, Brian, you just beat those two guys to a pulp faster than it takes the Charger to reach 60.” The muscular mechanic gazed at the man who had stood up for him without hesitation and felt his chest swell with pride.

Brian shrugged and smiled. He had a scrape across his left temple and blood dripping down his shoulder. “Nah, it was nothing. I couldn’t have stood to see you get hurt.” Brian reached to brush some imaginary lint off of Dom’s shirt, just for any excuse to touch the man. So far, the two had made a point to avoid any PDA around other racers, especially at events as public as this. Dom reasoned that it was because their relationship was still fairly new, and he didn’t know how their colleagues and enemies might feel about him sharing so much trust and intimacy with an ex-cop, but Brian suspected there was more. Sometimes he was worried that Dom didn’t want their relationship to be a smudge on his image and reputation. After all, he had spent so long becoming the macho, burly Toretto that his father’s legacy had formed him into. Yet despite these anxieties, Brian couldn’t stay away from the man, even if they couldn’t be as close as he wished. Dom and Brian stood there, gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes while the circle around them was clearly focused on the groaning Swedes on the asphalt. Finally, Letty’s voice rose above the hum.

“So... Are we gonna race or what?” 

Without taking his eyes off of Brian, Dom replied, “Let’s get this show on the road.” The crowd erupted into cheers, swiftly forgetting the two men on the ground who rose and skulked away from their defeat.

Spectators dotted the quarter-mile stretch of Grand Avenue, and lookout cars were parked at each cross street, signifying to the few late-night city drivers to steer clear.

The first car to roar up to the starting line was Hector’s bright yellow Mitsubishi. The talkative man sat behind the steering wheel, fiddling with his new tech. Next to him, Letty was in her Cranberry Mazda, adorned with a decal of a glistening metal lady sitting atop fierce flames. The fearless driver smiled as she looked down at the NOS gas canisters in the passenger’s seat. A low growl arose with the third car to pull up, a royal blue Subaru Impreza WRX STi with white racing stripes. The owner was Kent, a worker in the auto parts shop. All three cars were soon drowned out by the shiny black Dodge Charger. Dom wore his patented game face, lips pulled tight and left eyebrow slightly raised, his eyes full of confidence. A woman in a tan leather dress and a cheetah print belt strode out in front of the cars.

“Drivers ready?” she called into the air. All four engines revved in response. “Alright. Ready...” She lifted one arm up, “Set,” and then the other arm, “Go!” Both arms flew down to her side, and the four cars sped past her, whipping her perfectly arranged hair into a frenzy.

Kent got the fastest start out of the gate, but as he slammed down on the clutch to shift up, Hector slid in front of him. 

“Ha ha! Take that barbie man,” Hector cackled. The Eclipse swayed back and forth along the road, blocking Kent’s attempts to regain his lead. 

From behind the Subaru, Letty saw an opening to the right of both cars. “Bye bye, boys,” she smiled to herself and kicked the Mazda into the next gear. The red blur rocketed to the front, climbing to 100 miles per hour. 

Brian watched this beautiful dance from his specially chosen spot, about two-thirds down the length of the raceway. His brow furrowed when he noticed the Dodge trailing behind the three others. _Did those Swedes get inside Dom’s head?_ Dom had seemed fine when he swung himself into the driver’s seat before the race, even flashing his mischievous grin that drove Brian wild with desire. But maybe the strangers’ teases had shaken him more than Brian realized. 

As if in answer to Brian’s worries, the Dodge lurched forward, making quick work of its trailing distance. Dom’s hand and feet were working furiously, shifting up and down as he wove through the other cars like they were traffic cones. With a final gear change, the Charger reared up onto its back wheels in a demonstration of its raw power. 

Letty cursed and hit her steering wheel. “All right, baby, let’s see what you can do.” The beautiful racer popped open the cover on the NOS button on the steering wheel and pressed it. Her body slammed into the driver's seat, fully extending her arms. Out of the corner of her eye, Letty could see the store fronts, and the Charger, zooming by at lightning speed. 

“Take that, bitch!” She laughed.

_She always liked it fast,_ Dom thought, watching Letty speed by. Far behind him, Hector and Kent were locked in their own battle, their cars perfectly in line as if they had been super glued together. Dom felt the fatigue of the evening settle into him as he cruised along the avenue. It was peaceful, and he wouldn’t mind getting second to Letty. But then his thoughts drifted to Brian. He didn’t want to come home empty handed, especially after Brian had taken a beating for him.

“Love ya, Letty, but I already lost once today, and I’m not letting it happen again,” Dom said out loud. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel then lifted up the passenger’s seat next to him to reveal an array of canisters and pipes. “Time to flex some American muscle.” He flipped three switches and leaned back as the car charged forward. The Mazda’s glowing red tail lights grew bigger in his view until Dom was head to head with his business partner. Letty glanced over to see Dom wink at her. Then he grabbed the gear stick and shifted into the highest gear, pushing past her. He was barely ahead when they soared across the crowd-choked finish line. 

Screams and calls for pay-ups drowned out the sounds of their engines slowing down. They pulled up even with each other and each rolled down a window. 

“You almost had me, hon,” Dom chuckled. He was so proud of Letty, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before she was driving circles around him.

Letty scoffed, “Almost doesn’t win cash.” She wasn’t really mad; she and Dom had a strict no-grudge-holding policy. “Congrats _again_.”

But Dom had been enveloped in a throng of people crowding around his vehicle, offering their own congratulations and pats on the back. He thanked each and every one of them, though his eyes were scanning for one particular individual.

“You think that first-place engine of yours can get us somewhere a little more private?” Brian whispered in Dom’s ear, appearing beside him.

Dom leaned into Brian and smiled. “It’s not about how powerful the engine is, it’s about how good you drive it.”

It would take a normal person obeying all speed limits and traffic laws about twenty-five minutes to drive across town to the Toretto family home. Dom drove it in ten. He slowed to 40 mph as the white shingled house that sat above the street came into view and hit the brake hard, skidding into the driveway. The ride home had been brief, but enough time spent basking in his victory and Brian’s presence in the small cabin made him drunk with desire. 

Dom put the car in park and gave Brian a sly grin. “Honey, we’re home.”

From the house’s first level, they could hear the beginnings of an afterparty.

“C’mon, cowboy, we can go up through the kitchen and then upstairs,” Dom said, getting out of the car and moving towards the back of the house. “That way we’ll avoid the crowd.”

Brian stopped in his tracks. He was tired of feeling like a fugitive. Dom never kissed him in public and was always worrying about who knew about their relationship. After the way he had felt today, when the Swedes had been dealt with and all he had wanted to do was take Dom into his arms–he couldn’t take that feeling again. Brian took a deep breath and braced himself.

“Are you ashamed of me, Dom?”

“What?” Dom froze. He couldn’t believe his ears. It was like he had just hit a speed bump while going 80. He turned around to the man he loved, only to see Brian visibly upset. “That’s ridiculous, Brian. How could I be ashamed of you?”

“Then why do you always care if people see us? Why do you insist on sneaking around?”

Dom was taken aback at the confrontation. He loved how much Brian was a part of his life, but it was true that he was still getting used to being with a man. For so long, Dom had bought into the racing trifecta: cars, money, and girls. When he had first raced Brian that fateful night months ago, the sparks coming off his car had lit a spark inside Dom. Back then, he had thought the feeling was just mutual respect and admiration, but as he watched Brian immerse himself so passionately in the racing world, he realized their connection was something more. Since that night they had been through so much: betrayal, loss, reunion, realization, until their feelings had blossomed into a relationship that Dom couldn’t stand to lose. Every time he saw Brian’s golden locks, slender yet strong figure, and welcoming smile, Dom felt like he was racing down the open road without a care in the world. He was ready to spend the rest of his life with this beautiful man–he just wasn’t sure the family was ready for him to. With all these thoughts and feelings racing through Dom’s mind, one sped to the front of the pack: his adoration for Brian. He knew the other racer was right; he _was_ afraid of being public, but he knew it had to change if he wanted to keep Brian by his side. He was determined to show that he was proud to call this man his.

“Shit, Brian. I don’t know how I can explain this with words.”

“What are you talking about? What is there to explain?”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it? Too much talking.” Dom took a confused Brian’s hand and started towards the front of the house, his eyes glistening.

“Dom, what are you doing?”

“Show, don’t tell, sugar.” Dom’s heart was pounding so hard that he thought Brian must be able to hear it. He led him up the front steps, taking them two at a time. As the sounds of the party grew closer, he took a deep breath in, and turned back to Brian.

“Ready?” Dom asked, a crooked smile on his beautifully tanned face.

“Ready? For what, man?” Brian couldn’t imagine what Dom might have up the sleeves of his sleeveless muscle tee, but the man’s smile was contagious, and Brian felt himself grinning despite his upset moments ago. Dom swung open the door.

Inside, beer bottles were strewn about, and couples were intertwined on every surface. The 4 foot speakers set up in the living room pounded with heavy bass. Girls seductively swayed as men looked on longingly. When they noticed Dom, the partygoers raised their drinks and cheered. 

“Everyone enjoying themselves?” Dom asked, the smile from outside still lingering on his lips. The crowd cheered in response, and the couples returned their focus to each other. 

Soaking in the energy from the grinning faces, Dom turned to Brian. “How ‘bout you, cowboy?” Brian smiled half-heartedly.

“Yeah, I guess,” he said in his low voice. “But Dom…”

Dom’s hand detached from Brian’s and rose to the man’s chest. He nudged the blond back against the clouded glass of the front door. A genuine smile crept across Brian’s face as Dom brought his other hand up, next to Brian’s head against the wooden paneling. The sounds of the crowd behind them faded away, and suddenly it seemed as though there was nothing in the world besides the two of them, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes. Dom leaned in, savoring the heat of Brian’s breath so close to his own mouth. He brought his face up to close the two inches of height, just as Brian’s lean yet muscular arms circled around his neck. Their mouths met, and Dom felt like he was back on the streets, gunning the engine, overtaking other cars, racing across the finish line. Electricity shocked through his system. Brian had a knack for doing that, like he was pushing the NOS button of Dominic’s heart. Their lips fit together perfectly, and each was so in tune with the other’s slightest movements, reacting faster than a drift racer on a mountain road. After what felt like a nine lap relay, Dom pulled back, grinning. 

“Better?” He asked, hoping his bold gesture had paid off. 

Brian could only beam in reply. 

It was then that Dom turned to the crowd of spectators, which had grown significantly in the last few minutes. There were a few murmurs, but mostly stunned silent faces.

Dom’s booming voice rose through the first floor of the house. “Anyone got a problem?” He placed his strong hand gently in the center of Brian’s back.

A few people shook their heads, others cleared their throats, but no one dared to speak up. 

Finally, Letty broke the silence. “Yo, I got a problem.” All heads turned to the couch, where she sat, Tessa’s arm around her shoulder. “We need some more beer!” She raised her empty bottle up to the ceiling and cheered. The room erupted behind her and the partiers returned to their conversations.

“I got a problem too,” Brian whispered in a sultry tone to Dom, “why are you still dressed?” The decadent voice in his ear aroused Dom even more. Brian brushed past him and climbed the first few stairs before turning back.

“You’re gonna let me beat you twice in one day?” Brian teased. Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed the banister and headed upstairs.

“Just takin’ in the view,” Dom called after him, his eyes trained on Brian’s ass, watching until he disappeared at the top of the stairs. Dom eagerly followed. 

The racer took his time walking down the hallway to their door, which Brian had left ever so slightly ajar. He pushed it open and entered the dimly lit room. Brian was sitting on the bed, having kicked off his converse.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show,” he said. Dom laughed and crossed his arms, his biceps twitching as he flexed. 

“Wouldn’t miss it for all of LA, baby.” 

Brian was suddenly up, quickly crossing the bedroom towards Dom. Dom reached out and grabbed Brian’s t-shirt in an iron fist as the blond crashed their mouths and bodies together. Dom took a step back, allowing himself to be pushed against the door, which shut loudly. He pulled Brian closer, palming the back of the taller man’s head. His hair was soft, and smelled like Irish Spring and car exhaust. Brian’s hands were at either side of Dom’s face, firmly holding his strong jaw. Their lips moved together, Brian’s tongue sneaking into Dom’s mouth. Brian had to take a moment to remind himself to breathe in the heat of their embrace; he was so distracted with the movements of Toretto’s mouth and hands. One was still balled up in the collar of Brian’s shirt, pulling him infinitely closer, as if that were even possible. Toretto pulled his other hand from the back of Brian’s head and snuck under the back of his shirt, dancing across the skin of his lower back and sending shivers down O’Conner’s spine. Brian smiled into their kiss and reached down to snatch Dom’s hand from its exploratory path. Dom broke away and looked questioningly at Brian.

“Something wrong?” He asked, genuinely concerned. He gently placed his unrestricted hand on Brian’s left temple and stroked the scrape with his thumb. The love that Brian heard in his voice was enough to make him melt, but tonight he had other plans. He smiled, gently caressing Dom’s muscular forearm. 

“I was just thinking, since you’ve done so much work today... it’s time to pull over and let me take the wheel.” Without waiting for Dom’s reply, he hooked his fingers through the belt loops of the shorter man’s Levi’s. Their lips locked again and Brian steered the two of them to the bed, careful not to break the kiss. The strapping racer pushed roughly against Dom’s chest, raising one knee to the bed as the other man sat down. Dom pulled Brian’s head in closer, clearly adamant on not separating their embrace. Brian braced himself against the bed with one elbow while Dom leaned back, and now, propped over him, Brian moved his other hand down to unbutton Dom’s jeans. Brian was thrilled at Dom’s enthusiasm, and every reaction he elicited from the man sent a shockwave through his system. It felt like their intimate moments were Dom’s opportunity to be vulnerable, to let all the macho constructions of society drain away, and just be _himself_. Brian relished their time together for this reason: he got to see a side of this beautiful man that no one else could. He detached their kiss and met Dom’s deep brown eyes with his blue ones. As he gazed at his lover’s face, he felt like a car on the starting line, revving his engine in preparation for a wild ride. 

“Jesus Christ, Toretto, I love you.” 

Dom flashed a seductive grin up at Brian. “Oh, really?” He flirted. “Show me.” 

Brian’s heart faltered in its rhythm, and a split second passed before their lips collided yet again. The kiss was intense; it was hot and hungry, as if Brian was trying to say things that he could not put into words. He moved his free hand roughly under the hem of Dom’s shirt, relishing the feeling of his chiseled abs and working his way up to his enormous pecs. Dom almost shivered under Brian’s touch, and let out a slight moan of anticipation. The sound was enough to shift Brian into the next gear. He abruptly sat up, straddling Dom at his sturdy hips, and pulled off his shirt in one swift motion. He threw the fabric to some unknown corner of the room and quickly turned his attention back to Dom, who had propped himself up on his elbows and was studying Brian’s sculpted torso with adoration in his eyes. Brian locked eyes with him and slowly reached down to the hem of his shirt, savoring each second it took to remove it. The two men didn’t break eye contact until the tee had to come over Dom’s shaved head. Dom reached up and pulled Brian back into a passionate kiss. Brian was growing impatient with the foreplay; he wanted Dom and he wanted him _now_. 

Brian pressed his hand to the outside of Dom’s unbuttoned pants; he could feel the throbbing erection that mirrored his own. Dom’s breath hitched, and Brian plunged his hand into his Calvins, grasping the firm member like a wrench in his expert hand. 

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Dom swore loudly, his eyes tightly shut. Brian looked down at Dom, smiling at the pleasure on his lover’s face as he squeezed his cock harder, eliciting more exclamations from his first place driver. “Don’t stop, Brian,” Dom said through gritted teeth. Brian trailed kisses from Dom’s mouth to his jaw, and then lower to his neck. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” Brian spoke hotly into his neck between kisses. “This is only the first lap.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Brian woke up to morning sunlight streaming in through the bedroom windows. He hazily rubbed his eyes and let his mind catch up to his body’s consciousness. Running a hand through his hair, he turned his head to take in Dominic peacefully resting beside him. His lover was asleep on his stomach, with one muscular arm draped protectively across Brian’s chest, and the other resting above his own head. The sheets were messily sprawled across their naked bodies. Brian studied Dom’s bare figure, his eyes resting on all the places he had caressed the night before. Lightly throwing the sheet off, he stepped onto the carpet and paced the room, gathering up his clothes. 

After dressing, Brian walked over to Dom’s side of the bed. He leaned over and brushed a tan cheek with his lips.

“Sleep well, baby,” he whispered, then made his way quietly to the door.

He started down the stairs at a quick pace, but the first step sent a shockwave to his head. He stopped, steadying himself on the banister, and reached up to feel where pavement had scraped away the skin on his forehead last night. Brian did his best to blink the pain away. He had no regrets from the night before; he would pound those two Swedes back into the ground just the same if he got the chance again. 

After descending the rest of the stairs, slower this time, Brian made his way to the kitchen. As he opened the freezer for a bag of peas for his temple, a beautiful woman with long brown hair and thick eyebrows walked in. It was Mia, Dom’s sister and Brian’s ex-lover. 

“Mornin’, Brian,” she yawned, tying the sash on her silk robe.

“Hey, Mia,” Brian nodded at her, the cold plastic pressed against his head. 

“A little early for vegetables, don’t you think?” She gestured to the green bag with her empty mug, suspending the coffee pot in her other hand. 

Brian chuckled. When he had realized that Dom was the Toretto for him, he had worried at first about hurting this woman whom he cared deeply for. But Mia offered nothing but support to the two lovers. She had, however, taken him aside in a similar fashion to Dom’s threat when Brian first took Mia out, although the sister made a promise of a more psychological punishment rather than a physical one. When it came to Torettos, family was always first.

“Seriously though, it’s about time someone stood up for Dom.” Mia said, looking over in admiration at the man who made her brother so happy. “He’s so busy taking care of the family, he never really went after what he wanted. Until now.” She raised her eyebrows at Brian over her mug of steaming coffee. The blond turned away to hide his blushing. 

“I’m headed down to the shop. Do we need anything for dinner tonight?” He asked. Another thing Brian loved about Dom was his insistence on family meals. He had even taken to helping out since Brian had been in the picture. 

“Just for you to fix the Supra.” Mia may not spend much time down at the garage, but she certainly knew as much about the cast of cars as the rest of the crew. “You know the only reason that thing ever sees daylight is cuz you gave it to him. He’s gonna drive it till it has to be pushed.” 

“I’m afraid that day might be today. I gotta go tow it from the side of the interstate.”

Mia’s soft smile dropped and her brow furrowed, as if Brian had just told her he crashed the car himself.

“You left it on the side of the road?! What were you thinking?” She walked around the kitchen counter to smack Brian on the back of the head.

“Ow!” Brian stumbled forward but couldn’t hide his smile. “Relax, Mia, no one’s gonna take it. It looked pretty beat up.”

“But you know these other racers are like coyotes. They scavenge for any spare part they can get. Not to mention the sentimental value. Dom will be crushed if that car is lost.” Her concerned gaze met Brian’s.

“Shit, I guess you’re right. We were just in a hurry. And a little... distracted.”

Mia rolled her eyes knowingly. “Yeah, yeah. Well next time, maybe you could take a break from staring into each other’s eyes and remember the fuckin’ car.” Her smile let Brian know that she wasn’t truly upset.

“We’ll try,” Brian smiled back. _Can’t make any promises_ , he thought to himself, picturing Dom’s hands around his waist as they had kissed in the fading sunlight. 

To most residents of Los Angeles, the old painted brick building off of Figueroa Street was of mild architectural interest. It had been constructed at the opening of the twentieth century as a substation, generating enough power to run the Yellow Car line. But as preferences changed from trolleys to faster modes of transportation, the building had fallen into the hands of the Toretto family. Now the arched windows let light in on supercars in all stages of repair, and tools for every job hung against the exposed brick interior. 

Wiping the remnants of sleep from his eyes, Dom walked through the property’s gates and up to the huge iron barn doors. He remembered his father standing to the side, watching ten-year-old Dom struggle to lift the latch and drag the monstrous hunks of iron along their rails. Back then, they had seemed like nuisances, ancient relics that slowed him down on the way to spending time with his dad. But now, Dom understood them to be loyal guards, the only thing keeping the cruel world from touching everything, and everyone, he loved. With one hand, Dom grabbed the latch and pulled at the doors, which slid open with a satisfying groan. His muscular arms extended against the weight of the two ton doors, he couldn’t cover the yawn that escaped him.

“Why are you awake, Dom? I left you sound asleep in bed this morning for a reason.” Brian looked up from the tire he was installing on the rescued Supra to catch a glimpse of his lover’s sleepy face. “You were up so late last night.” 

Dom chuckled and shook his head, walking over to Brian. “You were up late too, sugar. Don’t you remember?”

Brian stood, his golden hair already frizzed and a grease stain across his cheek. “How could I forget the look on those guys’ faces when you sped across that finish line?” Brian felt overcome with pride and love every time he looked at this brave, burly mechanic. 

Dom gently raised his hands to Brian’s warm cheeks, wiping away the smudge of grease as they kissed. “Theirs aren’t the faces that _I’m_ remembering,” he said.

“God, is this a garage or a fuckin’ hotel room?” Vince scoffed, sauntering into the shop. 

Dom broke away and dropped his hands from Brian’s face. He hesitated, but when he raised his eyes to Brian’s hurt expression and remembered their conversation the night before, he clenched his fists. 

“I don’t think I need to remind you whose shop this is, Vince,” Dom said, his deep voice carrying through the garage. “But if you’ve forgotten, feel free to go take a look at that sign out there.” Dom gestured to the brick exterior, where a metal sign carved with “D⋅T Precision Auto Shop” hung _._ “And if you don’t like it, the door’s right fuckin’ there, too.” 

Vince lowered his head. “Sorry, boss,” he growled, shooting a scowl at Brian.

Dom squeezed Brian’s shoulder and let his hand slide slowly away as he walked around the hood of the Toyota, inspecting its scrapes and burns.

“Guess we got a little wild yesterday,” he smirked, glancing back at his lover.

“Which time are you talking about?” Brian laughed and leaned one shoulder against the suspended car. Suddenly, an engine roared into the garage. Leon was behind the wheel of his Nissan Skyline, the six cylinders revving boisterously as he slowed down and skidded to a stop on the garage’s concrete floor. Leon turned the car off and stepped out. 

“Hey, why did the Swedes put barcodes on their submarines?” Leon called out, making his way towards Dom and Brian.

“The fuck you talking about, man?” Dom replied, giving his friendly mechanic the side eye.

“Why did the Swedes put barcodes on their submarines?” Leon repeated, smiling back and forth between the two. Met with silence, he continued, “To Scandinavian!” He paused, beaming at the couple. “Do you get it, man? Like scanning? With the barcodes? Scan-the-navy-in?”

Brian could barely get out his “What the fuck?” before Dom started laughing enthusiastically.

“Are you really trying to encourage him?” Brian laughed in disbelief, turning to Dom, whose good spirits couldn’t be stopped.

From across the room, Vince had repaired his dignity enough to remark “Fuckin’ nutcase.” Brian shot him a glare, still wary from his earlier comments.

“I’ll tell ya who’s a nutcase,” Letty called, walking through the doors with urgency in her step. “Your Swedish friends, from last night? They’ve been driving around town with their shiners all night and all morning looking for you, Dom. Or so I’ve heard.” She glanced behind her at Tessa, who walked in munching on a bright red apple. Tessa held it up for her girlfriend, who nodded, and caught it when Tessa tossed it to her. Letty took a big bite and walked over to lean on the Toyota, positioning herself comfortably between Dom and Brian.

“Tell ‘em, T,” Letty motioned back.

“It’s true. I heard from one of Hector’s boys that they showed up with a couple of crowbars and threatened to smash his windows in if he didn’t fess up your location.” 

“I’ll smash their fucking heads if they try any bullshit with us.” Brian could barely contain his anger. “What’s this all even about? Cars?” He smacked the damaged hood of the Supra, the sound resonating throughout the garage.

“Brian.” Dom’s voice carried a gentle tone of warning.

An engine hummed in the distance, the sound steadily growing closer.

“Uhh... I think we’re about to find out _exactly_ what this is about,” Vince yelled over to them and motioned out the window to two flat, shining hunks of metal roaring down Figueroa.

“The hell are those?” Leon’s question put into words the horrified faces of all six racers.

“Koenigsegg CCs,” Dom answered. “Fuckin’ Swedish.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wrench, clenching the handle in his powerful fist.

As the sports cars pulled in front of the shop, the ripping of their engines reverberated around the open concrete space. Clearly, they were going for a factor of intimidation, underestimating just how little Toretto and his gang were afraid of. 

In perfect unison, the scissor doors of both cars swung up, revealing the tall, blond men from the night before. Brian took a step forward, the knuckles of his clenched fists white. Dominic stepped abruptly in front of him and placed a hand gently against his chest. They exchanged a look. Dom shook his head ever so slightly. 

“Hold up, cowboy. Let’s give them a chance to talk.” Dom whispered soothingly, doing his best to calm Brian’s determination. “And if they want a fight, we can give it to ‘em.” He turned to the two men stalking up to the door. “Heard you boys were looking for me. If I’d known company was coming, I would have brought some beers.” 

The Swedes said nothing, just stared at Dom and the rest of the gang. Their black eyes were hidden behind dark glasses, but bruises and scrapes, courtesy of Brian, could still be seen on their cheekbones and foreheads. 

“You lookin’ for something? Maybe some new cars?” Dom glanced over their shoulders at the stingray-esque vehicles. Tessa chuckled behind him, and the mulleted Swede shot her a mocking sneer.

“Dominic Toretto,” The man with the scar on his cheek finally spoke. “You owe us something.”

“Bullshit,” Dom laughed cockily. “You’re gonna come into my garage and tell me I _owe_ you something?”

“Were you close to your father?” The other stranger spoke now, walking leisurely up the ramp into the garage. His partner followed.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Dom clutched the wrench even tighter. The Swede grinned sardonically. 

“I guess you could say we are... family friends.” The two exchanged light laughter. 

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” Brian said. His icy tone cut their chuckles short.

“If you don’t want to get with the explaining, I’m gonna have to ask you to get the _fuck_ out of my garage before we have more of a problem.” Dom spoke with no humor in his voice, gesturing threateningly with the wrench he still held. The Swedes sobered and stalked closer to the group. 

“I’m surprised he never mentioned us to you. We used to stock race together, back in the day. Before his... accident.” The main Swede paused dramatically, glancing over at the Charger. “On our last race together, your father flew too close to the sun, as it were, and ended up losing a tidy sum. Or would have, if he had actually paid instead of skipping town.”

Dom’s heart skidded to a halt. His dad hadn’t lost often, and he especially wasn’t one to run if he did. Despite the engine lights going off in his mind, the mechanic kept his composure. He had to deal with these thugs before he could stop to assess the damage. “So this is all about money? How ‘bout I write you a check and we call it a day, then?”

The man forced a smile. “Not that simple anymore, I’m afraid. After all these years, I think it’s fair enough to say that some interest can be collected. Wouldn’t you agree?” He turned to his compatriot, clasping a hand on his shoulder. The second man grunted in agreement. “I mean, it would be a real shame to not honor your father’s debts. I hear word travels fast in this town.”

Dom growled. That was not an empty threat, or one to be taken lightly. Legacy and reputation were invaluable sources of leverage in the racing world, and nothing was more important to Dom than his family, past and present. If word got out about his father’s unpaid debt, what would stop other scavengers from coming around to milk them for more cash? And who else might try to discredit the Toretto name, destroying the life and business that Dom and his father had worked so hard for? He had to concede.

“How much money we talkin’?” It took everything in Dom’s power to reign in his anger.

“What was it, Ludvig?” Said the mulleted one. “One hundred thousand? Plus some twenty years...That brings our total to about two hundred grand.” He smirked at the gang’s wide-eyed expressions. “Still willing to write that check?”

“Shit, Dom, it takes the garage half a year to make that kind of cash,” Leon said.

This was exactly what the Swedes wanted to hear. Ludvig cleared his throat. “Of course, if you can’t meet the sum, we have another form of payment in mind.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that, assholes?” Brian was almost shaking with rage. He wanted nothing more than to beat these men as badly as he had the night before, but he could tell how much effort Dom was putting into keeping his cool. Anger burned in Toretto's eyes like an engine revving to 5000 RPM, but the robust man was able to maintain his foot on the clutch. Brian couldn’t blow it for him.

“We are always looking for business partners in the states. Especially ones who know how to get by the authorities,” the other Swede said. He looked suggestively at Brian.

“We’re not going to be your fucking mules, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Letty asserted. “C’mon, Dom, we can win two hundred K in our sleep. We just need a few weeks to race for it.”

“Mmmm, sorry, sweetheart. You don’t have that kind of time,” The ultra-blond stranger said. “We will be back to collect our money at the end of the week. And if you don’t have it by then… let’s just say you might need to find another hole to set up shop.” He looked musingly around the garage.

“Three days?! For two hundred thousand dollars? That’s like…” Vince trailed off, trying to do the calculation in his head. 

“66K a night,” Tessa said in awe. Dom looked around the garage. These were the best racers and the best cars in all of LA. They had made it through hundreds of races together, wins and losses alike. If there was anyone who could win that kind of money, it was his family. Toretto took a deep breath in and crossed his arms. 

“Fine,” He declared confidently, his voice dripping with disgust at the Swedish weasels. “See you on Saturday.” The strangers grinned sarcastically.

“What a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Toretto.” They turned to leave, but Dom shouted after them.

“Just one thing.” In an instant Dom had closed the space between him and the Swedes. He dropped the wrench with a clatter, grabbing Ludvig by the collar and lifting him struggling into the air. His partner exclaimed, but a wound-up Brian was on the other man in a second, delivering a swift punch to the face in a repeat of last night. He swore and sank to the ground, clutching his face. 

Dominic spoke softly and with threatening calmness. “You and your friend keep in mind. I’m doing this _only_ for my father, to honor his debt, even if it is to a bunch of cowards. I’m gonna do what he would have done, and you’re damn lucky he was more civil than my associates and I, because if you had been dealing with just me?” He lowered his voice to barely above a whisper. “I’d fucking kill you for comin’ in here like this. You understand?” Ludvig clutched at Dom’s immovable hands on his collar, nodding fast and furiously. “Good. Now get back in your ugly-ass cars.” He threw Ludvig to the ground. The Swede stumbled to get back to his feet, straightened out his shirt, and quickly climbed inside the Koenigsegg. 

“Let’s fucking go, Isak!” he hissed at his companion.

“Let me give you a hand.” Brian shoved Isak towards his car, where, once inside, the Swede wiped blood from his nose and spat on the concrete. Both men turned the keys in their ignitions and the scissor doors slid closed before they skidded out of the driveway and back onto the streets of LA. 

“66k a night?” Leon asked, once the roaring of the Koenigseggs had died down. “We’re gonna need a miracle.”

Toretto hesitated for a moment. The short encounter with the Swedes had inflicted a significant dent in his normal confidence. For the first time in his life, Dom was questioning what he knew about his father. If this debt had been outstanding for twenty years, what other loose ends had the senior Toretto left on the road behind him? Uneasiness crept through him as he considered the possibility that the legacy on which he had staked his own honor wasn’t everything he thought it to be. The only path forward was to pay the weasels what they were owed. He didn’t like asking for help or demanding so much from his family, even if he knew they were more than capable. But when his eyes met Brian’s supportive expression and he felt the love that was behind it, Dom had all the assurance he needed. 

“We got plenty of miracles right here,” Dom said, motioning to the glistening cars and their adept drivers. The burly mechanic found himself smiling. “Now all we gotta do is find some suckers to race,” He declared. “Vince, why don’t you call up Hector and see if he’s got plans for tonight. Tessa and Letty, the Mazda could use some fine tuning. She was sounding a little on edge last night. Leon, the Charger needs a new set of brake pads.”

Each member of Dom’s team nodded in understanding and set off on their assigned jobs, filled with anxiety and excitement. Once they were alone, Dom turned to his lover.

“You really think we can pull this off, Dom?” Brian asked, concern in his eyes. He knew how hard it was for Dom to hear about his dad, never mind the blackmail and the seemingly impossible task before them. He worried that the more-than-capable racer had put too much pressure on himself. 

Dom laughed, but Brian could tell it was forced. “I’m not worried about the money. And I’m definitely not worried about those fucking Scandinavian clowns.” Dom wrapped one of his muscular arms around Brian’s waist and pulled him in. “Winning’s what we do best,” he said, and pressed his lips up to his lover’s. When Dom pulled away, Brian saw a glint of anxiety in his brown eyes, but he decided not to push.

“You’re gonna be racing this baby tonight, right?” Brian smiled, hitting the side of the Toyota. 

Dom chuckled. “Only if you wanna _lose_ two hundred thousand dollars.” His eyes trained on Leon, who was raising the precious Dodge onto the car lift. “If he gets so much as a scratch on her...” Dom set down the gauge he had picked up and started towards the other end of the garage, playfully smacking Brian’s ass as he passed.

The air in the garage was thick with anticipation and exhaust fumes. The gang had been working hard all morning, cleaning grease off of gears, refitting suspensions, boosting NOS tanks. As the LA sun shone high over the auto shop, Brian wheeled himself out from under his Mitsubishi and wiped away the sweat on his forehead. He breathed deeply, resting his head onto the creeper. 

“I could really use a tuna sandwich right about now,” he sighed.

“Good idea, Prince Charming. I’m fuckin’ starving,” Vince said from under the Jetta. 

Letty wiped the grease off her hands with a rag and hopped into the Mazda. “Lunch break? I wanna test this baby out anyway.” 

The other mechanics clamored in agreement, putting away their tools and lowering their cars onto the concrete. Brian stood up and moved to open his door.

“Where do you think you’re goin’?” Dom called from the driver’s seat of the Charger. He reached over and pushed open the passenger door. “Get in.”

A sideways smile broke out on Brian’s face as he shut the lime green door. He crossed the garage and climbed into the sleek black frame, the powerful car roaring to life. 

“Hope you don’t mind me pulling you away from that machine of yours,” Dom said through a playful smile. He reached down and grabbed the gear stick. Brian couldn’t take his eyes off Dom’s hand flexed around the metal.

“It’s nice to take a slower ride for a change,” Brian joked.

The experienced driver laughed and raised his eyebrows, but declined to reply. Instead, he shifted into first and hit the gas. The Charger flew out of the garage, so quickly that Brian had to brace himself by grabbing Dom’s steady bicep. The sudden touch of their skin sent a shock through Brian, and he sensed that Dom had felt it too. The tires hit the asphalt of the road and Dom pressed harder on the accelerator. Brian had gotten used to the speed, but he didn’t let go of Dom’s arm.

The pack glided down the streets of LA like they were theirs, pulling up to Toretto’s Market & Cafe in Echo Park with a thunderous symphony. Dom turned the key, quieting the engine, and grabbed the door handle. 

“Where do you think you’re goin’?” It was Brian’s turn to ask. The blond set his palm on the back of Dom’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Brian didn’t hear their friends shut off their cars and get out, and he wouldn’t have cared if he had. He was too focused on the taste of Dom’s lips and the way the man’s tongue felt against his own. When he finally let go, Brian touched his forehead to his lover’s and trained his penetrating blue eyes on him. “Listen, I know we just got thrown a curve ball today… a big one. But I just… You can tell me anything, okay?” He paused to find Dom’s hand and squeeze it. “I know how strong you are no matter what.” Brian then turned and pushed open the door, waving at Mia behind the counter. Dom felt like he was falling in love all over again as he watched the beautiful blond walk in front of his car. 

Ever since becoming the man of the house at a young age, Toretto had vowed to take care of those around him and to build a family for his little sister. Looking at the people gathered around the stools, filling Mia in on the morning’s events, Dom smiled to himself. He would do anything for them, and judging by their eagerness in the shop, he knew they would return the favor. But throughout all these years, with each addition to the dinner table, Dom had felt the weight of responsibility growing on his shoulders. He had much more than a sister to support, and the gang depended on him to keep up a fearless attitude, in addition to keeping food on the table. His racer’s luck had finally paid off when Brian O’Conner drove into his life. Here was someone to share the weight. Brian made Dom excited for each day in a way nothing else ever had, not even racing. He knew he could take off his armor when they were together. _So why did I hide my fear from him this morning?_ Dom asked himself. 

His gaze wandered to his baby sister, who was walking out of the back with her arms full of sandwiches. Her eyes met his and she gave him a look that said “Why isn’t your ass at a stool?” Dom chuckled and stepped out of the car. 

Walking into the market, Toretto came up behind Brian and placed a hand on his back. “Shit, Brian, you know the tuna’s no good. Why do you still order it?” He shook his head at the crustless sandwich on the counter.

“Just be thankful I kissed you _before_ eating it,” Brian replied, taking a big bite and smiling with full cheeks. 

Dom’s mood lightened. “Stop being so cute, or I might have to kiss you again.”

Mia walked up to the couple and handed her brother a coffee and a roast beef on rye. “Will you two be able to stop flirting for long enough to win two hundred thousand dollars?” She smiled at the two men’s surprised expressions, and walked off to chat with Letty and Tessa. 

“About that...” Dom wanted to tell Brian everything he was feeling. Shame that his father had fled after losing a race, anxiety about delivering on his confident promise, fear that the other riders would hurt themselves trying to win. He searched for the words to begin.

Brian could sense the battle going on behind Dom’s eyes. “What is it, babe?” he asked, placing a comforting hand on Dom’s knee. 

Dom took a deep breath and fixed his strong gaze on Brian’s encouraging expression. “When you asked earlier if I thought we could pull this off–”

But just as he began, Dom was cut off by a 90-degree SOHC 16-valve V-8 engine. All heads in the cafe turned to see a purple Mustang Bullitt pull in next to the Charger. The driver-side door swung open and a muscular man in a sleeveless denim shirt and dark wash jeans stepped out. He grinned and raised his tattooed arms up over his shaved head. 

“Here I am, your savior,” he shouted at the gang gathered around the counter and pool table. They all stared in stunned silence, except for Brian, who laughed and strode over to the stranger. The man held his arms open and Brian eagerly walked into them, still laughing as they embraced. 

“Hey man, what took you so long?” Brian said, throwing his arm around the shorter man. 

Dom’s eyes narrowed. He watched the stranger’s hand reach around and come to rest on Brian’s shoulder. 

“Who’s this?” Dom tried his best to filter the jealousy out of his voice. 

“Name’s Roman Pearce. How’s it goin’?” Roman leaned in towards Dom and held out his hand, but Dom made no signs of movement. “Not a handshake kinda guy, I get it,” Roman said, standing back up straight. “I know who you are.”

“That so?” Upon hearing the man’s name, Dom instantly froze up. He had heard Brian mention his childhood friend and ex-lover, but he didn’t think he would ever see him walk into _his_ restaurant and put his arm around _his_ man. _This guy’s sure got a lot of balls..._ Dom’s icy tone did not seem to have phased Roman, who continued talking. 

“You’re Dominic Toretto, the one and only. Brian will not stop talking about you, but man, I wouldn’t be allowed on the LA roads if I didn’t already know about the Toretto family,” Roman said with a friendly attitude.

The corner of Dom’s mouth lifted at hearing that Brian had been boasting about him, but he quickly brought it back to a tight frown. He crossed his thick arms over his chest. 

Brian hadn’t expected Dom to be thrilled; he was always cautious around new people, feeling the need to test them out before he could establish trust. Hell, the first time they met, Dom had almost beaten Brian up. But Brian knew his man would come around, not just because they needed the help but also because Roman’s energy was infectious. He stepped in to break the tension.

“I figured we could use some reinforcements, so I called up the best”–Brian glanced at Dom–“second best”–and then Letty–“well, third best racer I know.” The rest of the racers chuckled as Roman turned to Brian with a feigned hurt expression. He then rolled his eyes and slapped Brian on the chest.

“Man, you wouldn’t know good racing if it left you in a dust cloud,” Roman smirked.

Brian landed a soft punch to Roman’s shoulder, the two friends chuckling together. Dom fumed at every touch that passed between them. 

“You hungry?” Brian asked, climbing onto his stool and motioning to the empty one on the other side of him. He was caught up in the reunion, having not seen Pearce for years. It was pure luck that the racer had been in LA when Brian called to ask for his help, and he was happy to see him.

“Starving,” Roman grinned. He plopped down on the seat.

“Mia, please get this man a sandwich.” The beautiful waitress nodded, glancing over at Dom’s furious expression. 

“With pleasure,” she said, shining a smile.

Letty and the others had returned to their game of pool, and Dom decided to get up and join them in an effort to clear his head. He knew that sitting next to Roman and Brian would only add to his long list of anxieties for the day. Brian watched him curiously as he stormed over to the pool table, but his thoughts of Dom’s sudden onset grumpiness were cut off by Pearce.

“So what’s this job you so urgently called me for?” Roman asked. 

“Well...We need to win two hundred thousand dollars’ worth of races in the next three days.” Brian squinted, unsure of what Roman’s reaction was going to be.

His friend let out a low whistle. “That’s some mission impossible shit right there.”

Brian smiled. “I didn’t say it’d be an easy one.” Mia walked up and set a turkey sandwich down in front of Roman.

“Thank you kindly, ma’am,” Roman said, tipping a pretend cap to her.

Brian’s face turned serious as Roman bit into his sandwich. “Look man, there’s no cut, and you don’t have to say yes, but this job is really important. You do this for me, and I’ll...” Brian’s eyes scanned the cafe, as if the red walls could give him an adequate payment. “I’ll fix up any car you want.” Roman was a great racer, but he had never been much of a mechanic. He relied on his racing skills to win him top shape cars.

Roman looked at the stunning man who had once been his. Seeing such concern on his face made his heart stop. He shook his head at Brian’s offer. “I’ve known you for what, twenty years? We’ve been through it all.” Roman thought back to their days as teenagers, stealing cars and spending time in juvie, and then the years after, filled with passionate nights. “I’m not some random son of a bitch you hired off the street. You don’t gotta pay me to race for you.”

Relief washed over Brian. “Thanks, man. You don’t know how much this means to me...”

Roman looked up at him hoping to catch a meaningful glance, but found that the blond’s eyes were gazing across the room, watching Dom bend over the pool table. 

“Any time, O’Conner. Besides, I don’t want your hands anywhere near a car I’m gonna drive. I heard how bad that Eclipse that you tricked out was,” Roman joked in an effort to disguise his disappointment that Brian’s attentions were clearly elsewhere.

“What?” Brian’s focus snapped back to the man in front of him. He processed the insult a second later. “Oh, shut up, asshole.” 

Dom stood up from his shot at the pool table. He glanced over at the counter to see Brian and Pearce laughing at something and felt his chest tighten.

“All right, we got a lot of work to do,” Dom said gruffly over Letty and Vince arguing about which shot to take. “Time to head back.” 

Roman grinned and hopped off the stool. “Let’s get this party started.”

Back at the shop, the cars quickly returned to their places on the lifts and the racers returned to their tasks. Every once in a while, someone shouted a question at Dom, or motioned for him to come over to give his expert opinion. Brian and Roman huddled around the Evo, trying to decide on a car for the latter.

“How about the Supra?” Brian said. “It suffered a little damage yesterday but we can have it humming again in no time.” He motioned to the Lamborghini Diablo Candy Pearl Orange car. 

Roman considered the vehicle. “Yeah, I guess it’ll do.” He walked over and ran his hand along the hood.

“Dom, you got the keys to the Supra?” Brian called across the garage. Dom stopped mid-sentence from arguing with Letty over the proper headlight covers for the Mazda. His blood boiled when he saw Roman caressing his cherished vehicle. 

“He’s not driving that car,” The burly mechanic whispered under his breath as he furiously slid past frames as fast as possible. When he reached Brian, he grabbed his forearm and turned his love around to face him. “Are you serious, O’Conner?” 

Brian was startled at Dom’s intense reaction. He looked from his urgent expression down to where his lover’s hand clenched his arm. He shook Dom off, irritation flashing across his face. “Of course I’m serious. You know he can’t race in that useless wanna-be piece out there.” Brian pointed to the purple Mustang. It was plenty good for gunning down the highway and catching people’s eyes on the streets, but the average sports car had no place in a serious LA race. “And it’s not like you’re gonna use it. I know you like to stick to your ‘American muscle.’” Roman snickered at Brian’s imitation of the phrase.

Seeing Brian frustrated at him made Dom feel like he had swerved into an eighteen-wheeler. He sat in the wreckage, unsure of how to escape. He knew Brian was right, and yet envy and pride kept him from wanting to admit it. Luckily, Brian anticipated Dom’s SOS. He moved himself closer to Dom, pressing the shorter man against the frame of the sedan. He spoke gently. 

“If we’re ever gonna have a chance against these Swedes, we need all the racers we can get,” he reasoned, tenderly touching Dom’s muscular bicep. “Nothing will happen to the car, I promise.” The heat of Brian’s strapping figure against his own thawed Dom’s cold attitude. 

“Scout’s honor,” Roman interjected, standing up straight and giving a fake salute. Dom gave him the side-eye, but reluctantly moved himself out from under Brian and over to the desk. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the keys at Roman, who reacted quickly to catch them against his chest. 

“Alright!” Roman laughed. He opened the Toyota’s door and slid in, turning the key. The car stumbled to life. “Now we’re talkin’.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

“Got it. See ya tonight.” Rosy evening sun spilled in through the arched windows as Dom put the receiver down. “Listen up, team.” His booming voice caught the attention of the other racers. They put their tools down and followed him to the front of the garage, taking their places against the hoods of the cars. Dom stood before the six men and women, all tired from the manual labor of the day but excited for what the night held. 

He folded his arms across his chest and began to delegate. “Here’s how it’s gonna go down. Hector told me about three races happening across town tonight, and we’re gonna split up to get to all of them. Tessa and Letty,”–he motioned to the two women, who had their arms around each other’s waists–“take the Mazda to Westlake. Edwin’s boys are planning on facing what’s left of Tran’s gang, but you two are gonna show up and make them all look like fools.” Letty nodded and squeezed her girlfriend tighter. “Leon and Vince, swing by Boyle Heights. I promised Hector I wouldn’t face him myself.” 

“What about the three of us?” Roman asked, exchanging a glance with Brian.

“Us? Hell, we’re gonna relay.” Dom cracked a smile at the shocked faces in front of him.

“What, a three person relay? What asshole had _that_ idea?”’ Brian asked.

Dom grinned even wider. “Me.” The burly mechanic answered so proudly that Brian couldn’t help but smile and shake his head. “I called up the Lopez brothers and made them an offer they couldn’t refuse.” 

Roman’s eyes widened as he watched Dom and Brian laugh. “You’re fucking crazy, man,” he said.

“There’s no backing out now, pretty boy.” Dom reached into his pockets and pulled out three thick stacks. He handed one to Letty and another to Vince. “This is your starting bid. You better come back at the end of the night with at least double that, or don’t bother coming back at all.” To many, it would have sounded like a threat, but Dom’s crew knew that he had full faith in all of them.

The racers moved toward their respective cars, but Toretto’s call stopped them in their tracks. “Hey.” Even though emotional communication was not one of the crew’s strong suits, Dom felt the need to express his gratitude to these people who were putting their lives on the line for him. “Thank you all. Really.” Vince and Tessa nodded and Leon cracked a warm smile.

“Now don’t start crying on us, boss,” he joked, at which Letty shot him a quieting look.

Dom turned to catch Brian studying him lovingly. When their eyes met, the blond flashed a wink and then climbed into his sedan. Roman remained against the Toyota, looking skeptical. 

Dom glanced at the man in his sleeveless Denim shirt, which he had found a reason to unbutton while working on the Toyota with Brian. Sweat and engine grease glistened on his dark skin. Toretto couldn’t believe he was trusting him to hold up a third of this race, but Brian’s confidence in the man meant a lot, even if it made Dom resentful. “Find your shirt and let’s get going,” he called, climbing into the Charger.

The black, orange, and green cars pulled up into Elysian Park, their shining frames illuminated by the stadium lights. The three Lopez brothers were waiting for them in the parking lot, polishing their matching fire-red Nissan Maxima SEs. A woman in a short red skirt and checkered crop top sat perched on the hood of the eldest brother’s sedan. 

“Evening, Eric,” Dom nodded at the eldest, not bothering to get out of the Charger. He had no time for pleasantries. 

“You got a lot of balls calling us up like this,” Eric Lopez called, walking to the front of his car and grabbing the woman’s hourglass waist. 

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

The lead Lopez scoffed, but motioned to his brothers to get in their cars. “Here are the rules: each driver’s gotta get to the end of the lot, where the cone is, then turn around and cross this line before the next one can start. Leila’s gonna be our referee and look out.”

Brian arched his eyebrows. The police academy, where he had spent two years of his life, was just on the other side of the stadium. There wasn’t a much worse location for racing in all of LA. “Is there a particular reason you chose to race in the LAPD’s backyard?” Brian yelled from behind the Lancer’s wheel.

The youngest brother spoke up now. “You don’t like it, you can drop out now.” Roman opened his mouth to shoot back, but Brian silenced him with a shake of his head. There weren’t many people looking to race on a Wednesday night, and they couldn’t afford to lose the opportunity. He rolled down his passenger window and turned to the Dodge. 

“I’ll go first, Dom. That way I can watch for any activity,” Brian said. Dom nodded back to his lover, his game face already on. 

As Brian and the youngest Lopez lined up at the start, Roman pulled in behind Dom. 

“Don’t worry, Pearce,” Dom called back over the sound of revving engines. “I’ll make it easy for you.”

O’Conner’s heart pounded in his chest. He glanced to his left at the car next to him. The other driver flipped a switch on his dashboard and Latin rap came blasting out the Maxima’s windows. Brian then turned to his right to see the Dom watching him from his glistening vintage car. No other race in Brian’s life had been as important as this one, because this one was for the man he loved. He imagined himself wrapped in Dom’s comforting arms as his foot hovered over the clutch. Leila walked out in front of the two cars, untying the bandana from her hair and holding it up to catch the dense LA breeze. 

“On your mark....get set....GO!” The bandana sailed down towards the asphalt and the sports cars flew into the night.

Brian shifted gears and hit the gas, cruising past the blaring music. In his rearview mirror, he could see Lopez curse in anger and reach for the NOS button. Brian smiled at the Nissan blowing by like a rocket. The young racer had gotten anxious and blown his fuel too early. All Brian needed to do was keep a level head. 

From their spot near the starting line, Roman, Dom, and the Lopez brothers reacted, the first two with joy and the latter with frustration, recognizing the opportunity that had just been handed to Brian. Without the usual crowds, the sounds of the engines filled the night. Reaching the end of the lot, the first car stumbled into the turn, drifting almost out of control but recovering enough to turn around and keep its lead. 

Brian kept a calm air as he shifted down to ease into the turn, smoothly following the curve of the cone like a precision driver. He accelerated out, creeping up behind the taillights in front of him. Once the starting line was within sight, he flipped open the cap on the NOS and hit it with his thumb, guiding the Mitsubishi around Lopez. The needle pushed to 110. A distance of four or five cars developed between the two racers in about two seconds, and Brian rushed across the finish line well ahead of his opponent. 

A grin erupted on Dom’s face as he brought the Dodge thundering out onto the track. He had a considerable head start by the time the middle Lopez brother screeched onto the road behind him. 

Behind the wheel of a supercar was where Dom felt the most at home. His father had been one of the drivers who made street racing possible in the City of Angels, and Dom had grown up addicted to the feeling of 600-plus horsepower under his control. Turning back to the windshield, Dom saw the bright cone that indicated the turn around point and the chain-link fence behind it. _Nothing a little American muscle can’t handle._ Instead of slowing down, he accelerated toward the orange marker. Hand over hand, he turned the steering wheel as fast and furiously as possible, but the tires couldn’t respond in time. The back wheels made a wide arc, swinging around and smashing into the fence with a sickening crash. Dom’s head ricocheted off the car seat and he had to blink through his haze to get his bearings back. Through the fog, he could see the bright red Maxima fly past.

Brian had positioned the Lancer far enough past the finish line so he could watch the quiet lights of the police academy, but also steal glances back to the race. As the sound of the collision reached him, he sat up against the car and urgently peered into the night. 

“Dom!” He could just barely make out the Dodge entangled in silver wire, smoke rising from its rear. The Lopez brothers cheered with delight as their second racer approached the cone and passed the moored vehicle. _Fuck the police_ , Brian thought, having no intention of turning back to his watch post until he saw Dom’s car move. 

“ _Fuck!_ ” Dom hit the steering wheel with his powerful hands. He had stupidly let his confidence get the best of him, and now Lopez was zooming toward the finish line. There was no way they could recover from this far behind, especially with Roman as their last man. Dom had failed his team, failed his father, and most hurtfully, failed the man he loved. His mind shifted to what the beautiful blond had said to him earlier that day, in the same car that Dom sat hopelessly in now. _“I know how strong you are no matter what.”_ He couldn’t let Brian down, not when he believed in him so much. Steadying his pounding head with a deep sigh, Dom eased his precious car into first gear, thanking God when the engine hummed to life. With an awful screech, he freed the machine from the fence and slowly applied pressure to the throttle. He focused in on the taillights far in the distance and hit the NOS. The Charger bolted across the parking lot and Dom heard a boisterous whoop from Roman. “That’s the first thing out of your mouth that I’ve agreed with,” Dom said to himself, shifting up. The second Maxima crossed the finish line and the final one roared onto the track, but Dom kept going. He didn’t pay attention to the eldest Lopez’s rude gesture when they passed each other, and he couldn’t bring himself to look Roman in the eye when he finally reached the starting point. Dom looked behind him through the smoke to see the Supra flash onto the track. He slowed down but didn’t stop until he pulled up even with the parked Evo. 

Brian rushed over to the crumpled Charger as Dom rolled down the driver’s side window. The blond frantically looked Dom up and down, seeing if he was hurt.

“Jesus Christ, Dom, are you okay? What happened out there?” Brian’s eyes flickered across Dom’s face, searching his expression.

“Yeah, baby, I’m fine. Just let the race get in my head I guess.” Dom shrugged and broke his eye contact with Brian, clearly upset.

The golden-haired man reached down and grabbed the collar of Dom’s shirt, planting a passionate kiss on his lover’s hot lips before Dom could even take his hands off the steering wheel. 

“I swear, Toretto, if you ever pull a stunt like that again...” Brian’s relief at being able to touch his lover quickly turned back to concern at Dom’s frustration with himself. 

Once Brian had released him, Dom became angry. “I absolutely fucked us, Brian. We’re gonna be starting in the hole and have to win double the money tomorrow.”

“Not so sure about that,” Brian smiled, standing up and nodding at the bright Toyota.

Roman had accelerated rapidly out of his wait for Dom, but the Lopez brother was already turning around by the time he got going. “It’s not over yet,” Roman announced, his eyes flashing mischievously. As he approached the turn, he shifted into second gear and slid the wheel to the left, kicking the clutch and yanking the hand brake up. His right foot hovered over the gas pedal. The car nose turned toward the cone and Roman slammed down on the accelerator, then released the handbrake and whipped the wheel around in the other direction.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Dom whispered, watching the Toyota slide around the cone while keeping its nose pointed to the center the entire time. The car had made the complete turn without having to slow down.

A smile sprang up across Brian’s face when it dawned on him. “That son of a bitch is drifting.”

“Just a little something I picked up in Tokyo!” Roman shouted with excitement, pressing down on the clutch and shifting into high gear. His maneuver had considerably closed the gap between him and the last Lopez brother, but there was no way he was going to get in front without a little boost. “Double or nothing,” the racer said under his breath. He slammed his thumbs on both NOS buttons at once. Dom and Brian held their breath, hoping their tweaks to the Supra would help it withstand the pressure. The car rocketed forward so fast that Roman had to clutch the steering wheel for dear life just to not lose control of the car. In the blink of an eye, he was right behind the Nissan. 

“Holy shit.” Lopez turned to see headlights behind him and hurriedly pressed his own NOS button, but the nitrous oxide of the Supra couldn’t be beat. Roman yanked the wheel to the left, pulling up side by side to Eric and then passing him just before the finish line. 

Roman hit the brakes, hollering “now that’s how it’s done, gentlemen!” He relished in the disbelief that fell across the brothers’ faces, climbing out of the car and sauntering over to them. “We’ll take that cash now,” he said, holding out his hand. Eric reached into his glove compartment and reluctantly handed over the twenty-four grand. 

From their vantage point, Dom and Brian stared, pure joy on their faces. Suddenly, a police siren whooped to life and the couple was lit by red, white, and blue lights. 

“Shit. They always gotta ruin the fun,” Dom cursed. He turned to where the other racers were settling debts and shouted, “COPS!” They scattered like mice, hastily scurrying into their cars and driving off before even closing the doors. 

Brian reached into the Evo and grabbed his walkie talkie. “Roman, meet up at the house,” he said into the receiver. 

The reply came crackling in. “Got it. Watch out for yourself, man.” 

Brian then turned to Dom. “You’ve gotta get out of here. I’ll stall them.”

“Like hell you will. I’m not leaving your side, Brian.” 

“This isn't a negotiation, Dom. I can handle them. You have to trust me.” Brian’s piercing blue eyes drilled into Dom’s conscience. He couldn’t let Brian down twice in one night. 

“I love you,” Dom responded, sliding behind the wheel of the Charger and speeding out of the lot. 

Brian watched the love of his life steer onto the 110 and then turned back to the approaching sirens. He calmly shut the Lancer’s door and walked around to sit on the hood. 

Four police cars screeched to a halt around the sedan. A megaphone hissed to life. “Turn around and put your hands on the hood of the vehicle.” 

Brian obliged. It was strange to hear the words he had said so many times spoken back to him. From behind him, the ex-cop heard the opening of doors and the shuffling of feet. 

“Now turn around with your hands on your head.” The voice sounded much less authoritative without the metallic backing of the megaphone. Brian recognized it instantly. He forced a smile as he turned around to face his old partner.

“Officer McLeery. Fancy running into you here,” Brian said, startling the young man pointing a gun at him. 

McLeery lowered his gun. “Of course it’s you, O’Conner. Who else would be stupid enough to hold a race next to the fucking police academy?” He eyed Brian’s tricked out ride. “And it’s lieutenant now.”

“Congratulations, Lieutenant.” Brian bowed his head in mock respect, hands still resting on his golden hair. “But, how could I have been racing if I’m the only one here?” He motioned to the empty parking lot with his elbow. 

“I should arrest your ass right now for helping a fugitive escape and for being a fucking fugitive yourself.”

Brian tried to keep from looking too smug. He wanted to have some fun, but he didn’t want to get himself shot. “I got a paper in my glove compartment that says I was cleared of all those charges. Signed by a judge and everything.” Brian had agreed to go undercover for the FBI as a mafia driver under one condition: that his and Dom’s records would be wiped clean so that Dom could come out of hiding and they could live together in peace. Taking down the mafia had been easy, but getting the government to hold up its end of the deal had been almost impossible. “That’s what happens when you actually bring in the bad guys.” 

The instant he said it, Brian sensed it was a step too far. McLeery lunged at him, pinning him against the Mitsubishi with his elbow. Brian knew better than to fight back.

“You remember Sergeant Rosario, O’Conner? She had a son, Aaron. Would have been about eight by now. But he was killed when a street racer hit him while escaping the police.” The officer pushed harder into Brian’s back. Brian could feel his heart pounding in his throat. “You are the bad guys. You might not see it, living your fantasy life, playing princess for that criminal Toretto, but while you do that, good men and women are putting their lives on the line to make the streets less dangerous from people like you.” McLeery let go, and Brian had to clench the metal frame with both hands to steady himself. The lieutenant walked back to his squad car, spitting over his shoulder at the ground in front of Brian’s feet. All at once, the sirens chirped back to life and pulled out of the parking lot single file. 

Brian stood against the sedan, watching the red and blue lights disappear into the palm tree-lined horizon. He had become a cop because he wanted to help people, to follow a code. But he had quickly learned that what the authorities labeled as bad and good didn’t match reality at all. Dominic had shown Brian that the law wasn’t always right, and that if he wanted to live by a code, he would have to build his own. Brian was proud of the life he lived, but he couldn’t help feeling shaken. How many people had died because of his reckless driving? How many of his former friends had lost their lives chasing him and his crew? Just then, the walkie talkie in his pocket crackled to life. 

“Brian? You there?” Roman’s voice was thick with concern. Brian picked up the device, his blood still speeding down the freeways of his veins.

“Yeah, I’m all good. Are you at the house?” he asked into the speaker.

“Yep. Everybody’s here except for Dom–”

“But we got tons of cash!” Letty’s voice butted in. Brian smiled as he heard Roman and Letty laugh together. The walkie talkie picked up faint, crackling booms of a speaker in the background.

 _Dom should have been home by now, even if he was driving at legal speeds,_ Brian thought to himself. “Were you chased? Did Dom pull off to lose a tail?” He tried to conceal the uneasiness in his voice.

“Nah, man. We were all in the clear. He just got off the 110 out of the blue and headed toward route 5.” Brian frowned. Why would Dom go in the opposite direction of where they agreed to meet?

“Alright, thanks man. And hey, that was some sweet driving.”

“Told you I was your guardian angel, didn’t I? That was some of my finest work. Can’t make that shit up–” Brian turned off the walkie talkie to cut Roman off, smiling and rolling his eyes. _Once you get him started..._

As the sirens faded away behind him, Dom found himself alone with his thoughts. He kept replaying the whole thing in his head, like it was the blooper reel of a TV broadcast. His father had always said, “a racer is only as good as his sloppiest turn.” _If you could see me now, Pops, you’d kick me out of your garage_. Dom shook his head. He couldn’t face his crew, not like this, not after he had demanded so much from them and then got his ass saved by a man like Pearce. And Brian had watched it all. He knew that Brian loved him, but anger mixed with jealousy in Dom’s mind to obscure all logic. _How could he still love me after seeing us race side by side? Hell, I would leave myself for Pearce if I could._ Hands clamped on the steering wheel, his lips closed tightly in rage, Dom swerved off the expressway and away from his home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

“Dom? Toretto, I know you can hear me.” Brian had tuned the walkie talkie to their private frequency, but with no luck. He cursed at the useless device, throwing it down onto the passenger’s seat. He had already driven by the Cafe, but had found no sulking Dom. As he exited the freeway for Figueroa, Brian’s foot hovered over the accelerator. He thought back to McLeery’s words, but after a second of indecision, he slammed his foot down and sped towards the garage. No time for a guilt trip now; he had to find Dom. 

Hope rose in Brian’s heart when he pulled onto Huron and saw the garage illuminated from within. He screeched to a stop and jumped out of the car, his stomach feeling like he was skidding across a five-lane highway. Adrenaline pumped through him as he swung open the doors and peered in. There, sitting with his pale work boots resting on the desk, was Dom. The desk lamp cast a dramatic shadow across his pensive face, hunky torso, and long, elegant legs. Seeing him, all of Brian’s stress rose to the surface, as if his mind had lost control of its brakes.

Dom looked up at the man standing in the doorway. In the moonlight he looked sleeker than any car Dom had ever seen. He wanted to tell him all of his fears, to hold him and never let go. Toretto swung his legs off the desk and stood up, crossing the room in just a few steps. Dom took a shuddering breath and hugged Brian close to him. He buried his head against the other man’s neck, inhaling his sweet musk and relaxing. He held him firmly, their strong bodies pressed close, supporting each other. A warmth rose in Brian as he felt Dom lean against him, and he wrapped his arms around the beautiful man. He kissed his lover’s head, all but trembling in appreciation of this genuine and intimate moment. They stood there in each other’s arms for several minutes.

Finally, Brian spoke first. “Jesus, Dominic, I was so fucking worried about you.” He could hear his voice shaking, but he didn’t care anymore. He felt exhausted from the wild ride of the night. 

Dom lifted his face off of Brian’s shoulder so he could gaze into his ocean-blue eyes. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Brian took a deep breath. He could see Aaron Rosario’s face in his mind and the image made his blood run cold. “What if we’re living our lives all wrong?” The admission opened the floodgates of emotion and conflict within him. “We say that we don’t hurt anyone unless they have it coming to them, but good people keep getting hurt. Your dad didn’t do anything to deserve his death.” Brian broke away from Dom and moved to the Nissan that was perched on the lift. He could feel the frustration coursing through him like gas through an engine. “These machines are fucking weapons, Dom. And we just ride around in them for the thrills.” His hands were shaking; he hadn’t realized he was so upset, but now anger was building. “I mean, we might as well be fucking murderers! Fuck!” Before he was conscious of his actions, he had picked up a wrench from the ground and swung it into the headlight. The glass shattered into a million pieces. 

“Brian!” Dom was at his lover’s side in an instant and grabbed him from behind, restricting his movement so he couldn’t hurt himself or the car any more. Almost immediately, Dom’s touch brought Brian out of the dark place where his anger had taken him. He let the wrench fall from his hand, the clatter of the metal resounding through the still garage. He stood, relishing the feeling of being held and supported by Dom as he steadied his breathing. The concrete floor glinted with the warm and cool lights of the desk lamp and the moon. 

“Fuck,” breathed Brian. “I’m sorry.”

Dom let go for a moment, moving his hands to either one of Brian’s biceps and turning the taller man around to face him. He studied his face and arms, which were dotted with minute scrapes from flying glass shards. 

“Listen to me, Brian. You are not a murderer.” He spoke softly but his words were filled with conviction. “Life is dangerous, and it’s the risk that makes it worth living. My father taught me how to fix up cars not because he thought it was a safe hobby but because he wanted to share the freedom of the open track with me, and bring me into a community that would never let me down. I wouldn’t have found such a loving family if it hadn’t been for these cars. So many things out there exist to drive people apart, to build up walls, but when you go to a street race, there’s none of that there. Everyone talks to everyone. We take care of our own and those that need help, and we take down the people who hurt others.”

Hearing Dom speak so passionately in his commanding voice made all of Brian’s worries melt away. In Dom's grounding presence his tantrum seemed ridiculous. Brian looked down into Dom’s deep brown eyes with love, then turned his head toward the dancing pools of light on the ground. 

“I shouldn’t even be upset,” He said, shaking his head. “You take on everyone else’s problems like they’re your own, but nothing ever fazes you.”

To Brian’s surprise, Dom threw his head back and laughed. When he brought his glistening eyes back to Brian’s, he saw his lover’s confusion. 

“You think it doesn’t faze me? Brian, those Swedish assholes scared the shit out of me. I’m worried about coming up with this money, I’m worried about putting too much pressure on the family, I’m worried about cracking from pretending to be strong, and most of all, I’m worried about losing you because of my own stupidity and arrogance.” As he finally shared his anxieties with his lover, it felt like a two ton car had been lifted off his chest. 

A similar relief opened up in Brian upon hearing what he suspected had been beneath Dom’s mask of assurance. “All those fears make sense, babe. But anything that happens, we’ll get through together.” Brian reached his hand up to Dom’s face. “Except for that last one. That’s complete bullshit,” he added, smiling lovingly at Dom. 

He moved his face towards his lover’s, but a glint of glass caught his eye. He abruptly stopped.

“Shit. I’ve gotta fix Leon’s headlight.” Brian hurriedly separated himself from the burly mechanic and went to kneel next to the jagged glass. 

“Now?” Dom groaned, making his impatience clear. He craved to touch every inch of Brian’s body, but the blond was so concerned with the car that he didn’t notice.

“It’ll only take a second,” Brian said, pulling out a bolt wrench from his back pocket and sticking it in between the frame and the light. Dom watched Brian ease the wrench back and forth, moonlight catching each flex of his arm. 

“Looks like you could use some help,” Dom teased, walking over and leaning on the hood of the car. Brian looked up to see Dom’s eyes carefully studying his every move. It made Brian hyper aware of his actions.

The headlamp assembly gave a satisfying thunk when Brian popped it out of place. Eyeing Dom, he reached down to the hem of his shirt and brought it up over his head, wrapping the fabric around one hand so he could grab the sharp glass. Blood rushed to Dom’s head, among other places. He knew that Brian was taunting him, and it was working. Each skilled movement of the other racer’s body sent a shiver up his spine.

“Go get an extra from the back,” Brian directed, speaking in a deep, sultry tone. The order brought a warmth to Dom’s inner thighs like the heat of a car radiator. He hurried to the storage room and came back with a shiny new headlamp, the perfect size. 

Brian thanked him with a gentle brush of his lips on Dom’s cheek, Dom’s grip on the hardware weakening as Brian grabbed it and turned away. He wondered how the strapping racer always seemed to catch him off guard. No one’s touch had ever made Dom melt like Brian’s, and no one had ever made him weak in the knees with just a glance. Dom realized that his emotions had never been so entwined with someone else, and he marveled at how Brian could make him feel instantly reassured with just a few words.

Dom stood frozen, a few feet from the car, his eyes following O’Conner’s expert hands. The blond found just the right angle to set the light at then pushed the new glass into place, making a normally arduous job seem effortless. 

The strapping mechanic stood up and dusted off his hands, then strode over to where Toretto still stood in the middle of the floor. 

“All done,” Brian said, pushing the wrench against Dom’s solid chest with his open palm. The simple yet strong gesture drove Dom wild with desire. 

Gazing into this beautiful man’s eyes, Brian reflected back on their conversation of a few moments ago. He couldn’t help but smile to himself. 

“What’s so funny?” Dom held it together, although he was dying to be close to Brian. He could feel the heat of every breath the man took, and he swore their hearts were beating at the same intense rhythm.

“Just thinking about how ridiculous it is that you thought I could ever leave you.” 

“Oh yeah?” Toretto asked in his husky voice. He was tired of waiting. He brought his hand up to Brian’s, and gently separated the wrench from his fingers, flinging it carelessly to the side. It hit the concrete floor with a clang that sounded through the empty shop. Dom moved Brian’s open palm to kiss it. His other hand found its way down Brian’s lower back and came to rest on his ass. Pressing his waist into Brian, Dom pushed him backwards until the other man was against the bright yellow hood of the car. 

“Mhmm.” Brian nodded, trying to get out words but becoming more distracted with Dom’s touch by the minute. “You are… the smartest...”–Dom moved his hand up and down the line of Brian’s lower back–“... sexiest...”–Releasing Brian’s hand, Dom’s touch moved down his lover’s chiseled torso as the blond wrapped his arms around Dom’s back, pulling him in between his legs and against his bare chest–“... most thoughtful man I’ve ever...” Brian trailed off as Dom brushed his lips against the blond man’s neck and collar bone. Dom’s kisses became hungrier and more aggressive, leaving marks on the side of Brian’s neck, the way a zealous racer might leave tire treads on the road. 

When Dom moved his head back to look into Brian’s eyes, he was met with a playful smile. “Not to mention, a pretty fuckin’ good driver,” Brian said quietly, his desire for Dom overtaking all his thoughts. 

“Too much talking,” Dom grinned back, and shut Brian up with a passionate kiss. As their tongues explored each other’s mouths, their bodies pressed closer together, moving in rhythm like the pistons of an engine. 

Brian brought his hands around to the front of Dom’s sleeveless button-up shirt and ripped it open, moving his face back from his lover’s so he could watch the moonlight fall on the uncovered muscles. Dom used the opportunity to begin his journey down Brian’s torso, shrugging off his shirt and kneeling in front of the taller man. With his well-worked hands, he unbuttoned Brian’s dark washed jeans and reached in to grab his hard cock. Brian bit back a moan, grasping onto the grill of the car for support as Dominic wrapped his mouth around Brian’s gearshift. Dom started slowly at first, swirling his tongue around the head while taking it deeper and deeper into his mouth. His hand pumped up and down in time with his mouth at the base of Brian’s member, the action as natural and practiced as shifting gears during a race. Dom was encouraged by his lover’s quiet swears through gritted teeth, his knuckles clutching to the frame of the car as if for dear life. They both got lost in the action, Dom not remembering when Brian’s hand had come to rest on the back of his head, and Brian not realizing he had even put it there. Dom sped up steadily, Brian shifting his hips in time with Dom’s movements. The blond’s muscles were straining, his legs starting to tremble and his vocalizations rising in volume.

“Oh my God, Dom,” Brian shouted as he was brought into higher and higher gear. It was as if they were speeding down an empty street, a crescendo building towards a finish line. Brian gasped through his teeth and shuddered, the orgasm hitting him like a blast of NOS through an engine. 

Dom stood up, his golden skin glistening with sweat. He trailed kisses from Brian’s mouth along his jaw, feeling the scratch of the man’s stubble, breathing in his smell as he smiled into his enticing neck and let him catch his breath. They stood there for what seemed like an eternity, Brian cruising down the highways of his euphoria, Dom holding him and giving him gentle and caring kisses. These were perhaps the moments that both men loved most: when they were lost in each other and the outside world seemed to disappear. 

At last, Brian sighed and looked down at Dom’s dazzling features. “Ready to go count your money, boss?”

Dom chuckled. “I like it when you call me boss, O’Conner.” He winked and separated himself from his lover. “You mind givin’ me a ride, since some idiot trashed my car?” At least he was in good spirits about the Dodge. Brian finished buttoning his jeans and gestured grandly towards the Lancer. 

“After you.” Brian turned to pick his shirt up off the ground where he had dropped it, but not before Dom landed a slap on his ass, sending a smile to the blond’s face. He shook off his shirt and followed his lover to the car, sinking into the seat and finding himself at home in the dark interior. Brian peeled out of the garage’s driveway and onto the highway, weaving between lanes and cars to steadily gain speed. This was where he was an expert, where he was truly in control. He could feel the engine climbing in rotations, could feel his acceleration without even looking at the meter on the dashboard. He was shifting up and down without ever taking his eyes off the road, always letting out a little extra gas for revs to show off the car’s powerful engine.

Dom crossed his muscular arms and relaxed into the seat. He watched his man expertly maneuver the vehicle through the traffic. Nothing turned him on like a good driver. He studied Brian’s hand shift gears as if it was working independently of the rest of him; watched his feet alternate between the clutch and accelerator so quickly that if he blinked he would miss it. He was always in his element on the highway. Dom was so engrossed in Brian’s driving that he hadn’t even realized they had pulled into the driveway of the Toretto house. He blinked to clear his head as Brian shut off the car. Since just last night, standing in this same place, the two of them had gone through so much.

The blond was waiting for him on the steps leading to the front door. 

“You okay, babe?” He called out to Dom. 

“More than okay,” Dom said back, and made his way up the steps.

Brian’s eyes widened when he pushed open the door. Inside, it seemed like the gang had invited everyone they knew. There were dozens of faces that Brian recognized from races, and others that he didn’t. Tessa had set up a DJ station where she was spinning between three turntables and a computer, holding half of a pair of headphones to her ear. The living room had been transformed into a dancefloor, as was commonplace at Toretto parties. 

Hearing the music that spilled out onto the street, Dom slid past the taller man. “Now this is how a family celebrates!” Dom spotted Letty in the middle of the dance floor and wove through the crowd like he was accelerating through four lanes of traffic. Brian started to follow, but a hand reached out and grasped his arm. It belonged to Roman.

“Hey, man!” Brian grinned, patting Roman on the back. “When’d you learn how to drift like that? Shit was incredible!” Brian expected Roman to launch into a self-congratulatory speech, but instead he smiled, looking almost humble. 

“Just trying to help out any way I can. You know me, Brian.” 

Brian motioned around to the mob of dancers. “What do you think? The Torettos sure know how to throw a party.”

“I think you’re gonna waste all my hard-earned money on beer.”

Brian laughed. “ _Your_ money, huh? That doesn’t sound right to me for some reason.”

“Give it a little time… it might start sounding better.” Roman mirrored Brian’s laugh. “Nah, I’m just playin’ with you. You know I’m not here for the money.”

Before Brian had time to figure out what his ex-lover meant, he caught Dom’s eye through the sea of dancers. The herculean man began to shoulder his way through the crowd to where Brian and Roman stood.

“Again, man, thank you for your help. Seriously.” Brian rested a hand on Roman’s shoulder. “You really don’t know how much this means to us.”

“Hey, it’s my pleasure.”

Brian gave him a chaste smile and quickly separated himself to move towards Dom. They met in the middle of the mass of partygoers, Brian immediately circling his arms around Dom’s neck and giving his man a long kiss while Dom gripped his waist with his strong hands. As they broke, Brian saw Mia speaking to Tessa out of the corner of his eye. She gestured discreetly to Dom and himself, and moments later the song shifted seamlessly from Compton hip hop to Isaac Hayes. Brian laughed as the slow dance started. He and Dom had already assumed the correct position, and they swayed in time to the heavy, sultry bass. 

“Why do I have the feeling you had something to do with this,” He said softly into Dom’s ear. He leaned out, relishing the sly look that came across his lover’s face.

“I’m all about the dramatic gestures,” Dom replied, his gravelly voice pulling Brian back in. Brian felt like he was cruising down the Pacific Coast Highway, listening to the music of the waves hitting the cliffs and soaking up the sunshine of Dom’s body against his. Racing was all about being conspicuous, about standing out, being unparalleled as you crossed the finish line in a flashy car. But tonight, Brian was more than happy to just be another couple on the dancefloor, accepted for their love.

They had no need to exchange words as they danced; both knew what the other might have wanted to say. The energy between them was deeper, more grounded than it had ever been. It seemed that all they had needed was to truly communicate with each other about their anxieties. The pressure that the Swedes put on their backs was enough to drive anyone to fight, but Brian and Dom knew they were stronger than that.

When the song faded out, Dom slid his hand into Brian’s and led him into the next room, where Letty, Leon, and Vince were gathered on the couch. Seeing the meeting beginning, Roman and Tessa each made their way over to the group.

“Alright, pay up,” Leon said, gesturing to Roman. He handed over a wad of bills. Leon pulled his own stack out from his pocket and began counting out the cash like he was dealing cards.

“How’d the Mazda handle, Letty?” Brian asked. The woman reached into her bra and pulled out a wad of cash, which she tossed in the direction of Leon. 

“Like a dream. The Magnecor plug wires that T and I installed this morning really upped the control.” Her eyes lit up as she narrated the race, how she had easily emerged from the pissing contest between Edwin and Tran’s gang, dodging wrecked vehicles to sail across the finish line. From the other side of Leon, Vince scoffed.

“Sounds like they did all the work for you,” he said, looking uninterested.

Letty sat up and glared across Leon at the bear-like man. “At least I can win a race without my front bumper falling off.” The whole gang had erupted into laughter when they saw the state of the Jetta. 

“Can you two hot heads keep it to yourself for just a few minutes? You’re gonna make me lose fucking count,” Leon shouted. Vince and Letty rolled their eyes almost in unison and leaned back into the couch.

Dom had been watching the exchange with a hint of amusement in his eyes. _Families always bicker_ , he thought to himself. Toretto mostly let his crew figure out issues between themselves, but as soon as someone from outside the group threatened any of the family, he was on them like tires on a road. 

“What’s the verdict, Leon?” Dom asked once the goateed racer had finished. Leon put the last of the bills down in his lap, ran a hand through his slicked-back hair, and smiled.

“Off to a good start. We made enough for tonight.” A slight smile emerged on Dom’s face as the rest of the gang cheered and clinked beer bottles. He had been worried that their task was too daunting, but the accomplished racers had made it look easy. An air of real confidence replaced the fabricated one he had worn before, but only Brian could detect the difference with a proud glance at his man. 

Dom caught Brian’s look and his smile broadened. He placed one strong hand around Brian’s waist and with the other reached out and grabbed Vince’s beer.

“Hey!” Vince shouted, but Dom threw his head back and chugged the beverage. The strong man held the empty bottle up to the six racers gathered in front of him. 

“Salud,” he said, his sincere tone communicating his thanks. Letty smirked as Dom handed the empty bottle back to a sullen Vince. He turned his attention to the blond at his side. “Don’t know about you, but I’m beat.”

“Can’t imagine why,” the taller man answered, though as he said it, he felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. Brian had been riding an adrenaline high from the race and his and Dom’s passion in the warehouse, but now he could see the physical work and emotional labor of the day in his rearview mirror. All Brian could think about was going to bed in the arms of the man he loved. “Let’s head up.”

Dom squeezed Brian’s waist in agreement. He turned back to the chattering group in front of him. “Lots of work tomorrow. Make sure you all get your beauty sleep,” he chuckled.

“You crazy kids enjoy yourselves,” Letty called after the couple heading towards the stairs. 

They entered the room, O’Conner closing the door behind him and leaning back against it as he watched Dom undress. He was unable to stop the smile that grew across his face, gazing at the beautiful man before him with perfectly formed muscles and tender eyes. The wonder on the blond’s face was like that of a crowd watching a polished, tricked out supercar pull into a race. _The sexiest racer in the world,_ Brian thought, walking over to the bed. He stripped off his shirt and stepped out of his jeans, smiling to himself, _And he’s all mine_. The blond slid under the covers and lay on his back, eagerly awaiting the comforting touch of his lover. 

Dom climbed into bed, settling the taller man’s head against his shoulder. Brian’s hand come to rest on his bicep, tracing lazy circles across Dom’s brawny arm.

“Ready to do it all again tomorrow?” Dom asked, savoring the feeling of Brian’s body against his. 

Brian’s chest rose and fell with a deep sigh. “As long as you’re there with me.” Dom looked down at Brian’s gorgeous face smiling up at him. He leaned in and pressed their lips together in a long, gentle kiss. “I love you,” Brian whispered, filling Toretto with a glowing warmth as they settled into sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_Thursday **** Total: $67,420_

* * *

The 1994 Ford SVT Boss Mustang 10.0L Concept can go from 0 to 60 in 1.9 seconds. Similarly, a racing team on a deadline can go from fast sleep to fully active in record time. Before the morning traffic had even hit the City of Angels, the cars in D⋅T Precision Auto Shop were on lifts. 

While Tessa and Leon checked the suspension of the Skyline, Brian and Roman set to work replacing the wheels on the Supra, which had been worn smooth from Roman’s drifting stunt. Dom and Vince paced around the mangled Volkswagen, trying to decide if the front was salvageable. 

“BBS LM wheels,” Brian gestured impressively to the new set of tires. “You’ll be cruising in style, that’s for sure.”

“Who said anything about cruising?” Roman laughed back. 

The blond lifted one of the chunks of rubber and brought it up towards the wheel rim, glancing over at the Jetta. Toretto stood in front of the scraped-up car, the high-performing motor in his mind hard at work. He had unzipped the top of his grey coveralls and tied them around his waist, exposing his broad shoulders and muscle tee that was already covered in smudges. Seeing Dom figure out a problem on a car was always thrilling to Brian. It was no wonder the garage was one of the best in the city with the care Dom took to each vehicle that passed through his doors. The tire froze in midair on its path while Brian watched Dom rip the loose bumper off the Jetta without so much as a grunt and toss it to the side. Brian was still often surprised by his lover’s raw power. He set the tire down and strode over to the shorter man. 

“It’s not fair for you to turn me on when I got a car to fix,” he murmured to Dom, mock annoyance on his face. 

“All’s fair in love and racing,” Dom grinned. He shrugged, holding out his bulging arms. 

“Hey, Brian,” Roman called, pulling the strapping mechanic back to the task at hand, “this one’s stuck on tight.” 

“Let me have a go at it,” Brian said, walking over to Roman. Roman didn’t move from the spot where he was, so when Brian leaned in to fiddle with the tire, he was only a few inches from his ex-lover’s face. 

“It just needs...a little...tug.” O’Conner grunted as the lug nut came free in his palm. 

“You always were good with your hands,” Roman remarked, slapping Brian on the back in thanks.

Brian chuckled uncomfortably, unsure of what to make of the comment. _Roman just likes to joke around_ , he reasoned to himself, and decided to brush it off. 

Letty pulled the Mazda up the ramp and into the shop. “I got the new order of NOS from Harry. We’ll be blasting down those streets tonight,” she called over the sounds of the mechanics working. 

“That’s assuming we can get some streets to blast down,” Leon responded from under his car. He slid the creeper out and sat up to look at Dom. “Where are we gonna find races on a Thursday night?”

The burly mechanic smiled as he wiped the grease off his hands. “Same place we found ‘em on a Wednesday. Letty, call up Hector.”

“Okay, here’s the deal,” Letty said to the racers gathering around her. She and Dom had been discussing a plan of attack, and now Dom leaned against the desk and listened to his ex-lover address the troops. “Hector said he’s up for a race tonight, but only if he can race ‘the new guy.’” All heads turned to Roman.

“Sounds like the Lopez brothers were spreading some tales about you,” Brian grinned, landing a playful punch on Roman’s shoulder. Dom kept his eyes ardently trained on the concrete floor, but his mouth was tighter than the turn in last night’s race.

“Brian, I think you should go with Roman. You and Hector are buds so you can give a rundown of what to expect.” Even though Dom’s arms were crossed, his flexing biceps gave away his fist clench at Letty’s words. When she had suggested that Brian and Roman go to the race together, Dom was furious, but Letty was good at talking him down. _Brian would never do anything to hurt me_ , Dom reminded himself, looking up at his smiling lover. He could see the spark of excitement in Brian’s eyes that shone like headlights on a desert road whenever he started thinking about the next race. 

Letty continued on down the list. “Tessa, Leon, and I got an appointment with Lance, Johnny Tran’s cousin, ‘cuz apparently he wasn’t so satisfied with the results last night.” The fiery mechanic exchanged a sly smile with her girlfriend. 

“Smoked him once, smoke him again,” Tessa quipped.

Dom stood up from his spot against the desk into a wide stance. “Vince, you and I are gonna head on over to Long Beach. Some rich asshole wants to try his luck against my Dodge.”

“He better be a fucking leprechaun,” Vince smirked.

Dom looked around at his mechanics, who were covered in oil and dirt. “Dinner’s at the house in an hour. Go get yourselves cleaned up,” he said. His voice was as low as the hum of a powerful engine.

All the racers dispersed towards their cars except Roman, who stood frozen. “We’re gonna all eat together? At the house?” He asked Brian. He was surprised that such a sentimental gesture had a place in this racing crew. 

“‘Course. We’re a family,” Brian replied as he walked past him towards the desk. The look of wonder on his friend’s face made him chuckle. 

“And you’re the little baby who never knows what’s going on,” Leon chimed in, climbing into the Skyline with a hoot.

“At least I’m not the teenager trying to grow his first beard,” Roman called back. The back-and-forth jokes turned into competing revving of engines, filling the brick building with noise. Sounding more like planes taking off than cars, the five racers roared out of the garage, leaving Dom and Brian alone.

“Finally, peace and quiet,” Dom grinned as Brian strode up to him. The shorter man made fierce eye contact with his lover, as if his deep brown eyes were trying to soak up as much of Brian’s blues as possible.

“I thought you liked loud cars,” Brian teased, placing a hand on each of Dom’s chiseled hips. His hands had been working all day with cool metal, and now they hungered for the warm touch of Dom’s firm body. “‘American muscle,’ right?”

Dom gripped Brian’s upper arms like a steering wheel, but the robust biceps felt better than any leather. “A car doesn’t have to be loud to be powerful,” Dom commented, and Brian sensed he wasn’t talking about cars at all. The two men stood holding each other for several moments, letting the anticipation rush through them, like two sports cars lined up at a traffic light gunning for a race. 

With a flirtatious glint in his eye, Brian turned to the desk beside them and shoved the papers, tools, and pen holder that covered the wooden surface onto the floor. 

“Now that ain’t right,” Dom scolded, a slanted smile creeping across his lips. He could feel his love for this man coursing through his veins. 

“Then stop me,” Brian replied, moving his hands to Dom’s forearms and pushing the skilled racer against the desk. Brian brought his mouth into the crook of Dom’s neck and gently kissed his lover’s golden skin. Dom found himself speechless. He felt a fire light in each place that Brian’s soft lips touched him, a fire that quickly spread to his whole body.

Dom broke free of Brian’s grasp to run his hand through the blond’s sunshine-colored locks while Brian’s fingers snuck under Dom’s shirt and glided down his abs like they were an LA street grid. 

“We gotta get to dinner, babe,” Dom mumbled through intense breaths.

“There’s time for a pit stop...” Brian replied in a sultry tone, lowering himself onto his knees and placing a strong hand on his lover’s waist.

The smell of roasting chicken wafted from 1327, the Toretto house on Kensington. The Mazda, Supra, Charger, and Skyline, as well as Mia’s Honda NSX, lined the curb in front, as if the cream-colored shingled building itself was the site of a race. Brian stood at the top of the stairs, arms filled with plates and salad, and gazed happily down at the peaceful scene in the yard. Roman sat joking and exchanging stories of legendary races with Letty, Leon, Tessa, and Vince at the picnic table, while Dom manned the grill, tongs in one hand and beer in the other. 

Mia cleared her throat behind Brian, snapping him out of his reflective moment. 

“And I thought traffic on the 405 was bad,” she joked, her voice full of mock frustration. Brian laughed.

“Sorry, Mia. I was just...” He trailed off, unsure of how to put into words the warmth in his heart.

“Admiring our family?” The beautiful woman suggested. “We’ve got a good one.” She slipped passed Brian with a plate of rolls in her hand and danced down the rest of the steps.

“Chicken’s done,” Dom called, stacking the meat on a plate. He picked up the heaping platter effortlessly in one hand and strode to the bottom of the stairs to meet Brian.

“You comin’, cowboy?” The burly mechanic smiled up at his lover. Brian mirrored his hungry grin and came down to join him. The racers eagerly gathered around the table, all lined up waiting at the starting line–except for one who jumped the gun.

“Uh-uh, Pearce,” Dom scolded, “Now you gotta say grace.” While the Toretto family was definitely on the rougher side, they had their own rules of decorum.

“I gotta do what?” Roman asked, staring around at the smirking faces, Brian’s grin the biggest of all.

Dom just chuckled and shook his head, exchanging an amused look with his sister at the other end of the table. “Gets ‘em every time.”

Tessa, who had recently been the confused newcomer, offered an explanation. “You reached for the food first, so now you gotta say grace.”

“Are you serious? But I don’t know any graces.” Seeing no sympathy, Roman stumbled on. “Ummm...Thanks, God, for, uhh… this food before us, and… for the–for the people here, too. Yeah, the people. It’s a good family.” Roman paused for a minute, trying to think of more to say. “And most of all, thank you for fast cars. Amen.”

“Wow. I feel truly blessed,” Brian said to Roman between snickers.

“Alright, alright, y’all are hilarious. Now can we just eat?” Roman reached across the table for a chicken breast and the other mechanics soon followed. The yard filled with talk of the night’s races, the latest car mods, and rumors of the racing world. The gathering was a well-deserved reward for their hard day of work and important preparation for what lay ahead of them. 

“What’s this Hector guy driving, anyway?” Roman paused from his food to ask Brian.

“He just got a new Eclipse. Gave Letty and Dom a run for their money the other night.” 

Roman was unphased. “Won’t be a problem for the dream team,” he said. He held out his fist, and Brian gladly reached out to bump it, not catching Dom’s resentful side eye that cut across the table. The blond was happy to see that Roman’s dignity had been repaired without so much as a scratch left on his confident detailing.

Letty leaned back from her cleared plate and took a swig of beer, eyeing the rosy sky overhead. “We should get a move on if we want to have a chance to make any money at all,” she declared. Leon and Tessa nodded and raised themselves from the table.

“Thanks for dinner, Mia,” Leon smiled as he stacked the plates together. “Sorry to leave you with the dishes.”

“That’s alright, I got plenty of help right here,” she responded, looking around at the remaining racers. Before Brian had driven into their lives, Mia used to be stuck in the kitchen while the rest of the gang watched TV or raced, but the thoughtful mechanic had insisted that they all help. His caring energy had worked to naturally realign the dynamics of the group, fitting them back together to create an even smoother ride.

Letty, Leon, and Tessa moved towards the Mazda and Skyline. Letty turned back and called over her shoulder, “Say hi to Hector for me.” With that, the red and yellow cars roared to life and pulled away. 

Brian gently touched his lover’s hand. “You all should take off. Mia and Roman and I can clean up.”

Dom hesitated. He didn’t want to leave Brian with Pearce for any longer than was absolutely necessary, but he also wanted to make sure he had time to prepare for the race. Even though he had fixed the Charger to look as polished as always, his morale was still well below its usual high-powered level. Toretto looked up at Brian’s face and instantly felt the loving look in those sky-colored eyes recharge his drained battery. He turned his hand over in Brian’s and gave the blond’s a tight squeeze, savoring the contact of their skin.

“See you on the other side,” he smiled, then turned and nodded at Vince. “Let’s hit it.” Toretto stood up and leaned over to his sister, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks, Mia.”

“Be careful out there,” Mia playfully cautioned, but was waved off by Dom as he and Vince headed for the Dodge.

“Those rich guys are sore losers. I hope Dom doesn’t have to deal with any trouble when he wins,” Mia sighed, following Brian and Roman up to the kitchen with the dishes. She felt like she could share her anxieties about racing around O’Conner; she knew he was just as concerned as she was about her brother’s safety. Just like Mia, Brian felt that ball in the pit of his stomach whenever Dom was late returning home from a race, or when the Charger pulled into the driveway with scrapes and smoke. 

“He’ll be fine, Mia. He can hold his own against just about anybody.” Brian hated every second of the evenings they had to spend apart. So much of his energy during a race came from knowing Dom was in the crowd, carefully observing each rotation of the tires with that beautiful focused expression of his. But tonight they would be more effective apart. He did his best to stay positive, not just for Mia but for himself, too. 

“Besides,” Roman offered, “he’s got Vince, and no one’s gonna dare go near that face.” 

All three chuckled at the insult, but Roman could detect the concern that remained in the beautiful blond’s voice. He did his best to distract his ex-lover and lighten the mood of the little kitchen. 

“What song are we gonna play at my victory party after the race? It’s gonna be another night of me winning all your money,” he jokingly gloated. Brian rolled his eyes but Mia laughed. 

“Maybe we should make you sing, since you’re doing _everything_ else around here,” she said.

O’Conner summoned a look of horror to his face. “Oh no, Mia, you don’t want that...” 

But Roman grinned, and started belting at the top of his lungs. “ _We are the champions, my friends_ –”

Brian flung soapy water at Roman, forcing him to stop, and soliciting a cry of protest from Mia. 

“Alright, you two,” Mia said, a smile still on her face. “You better get gone to that race. Don’t want to keep Hector waiting.” She made an exaggerated expression to show that she knew the family friend was no threat at all.

“You wanna come, Mia?” Brian turned to Roman. “Believe it or not, Mia’s got the racer’s mind of the family.” He flashed a wink at the beautiful woman. Roman raised his eyebrow. He was surprised to hear Brian be deprecating towards Dom, even playfully so.

“Oh, shut up.” Mia rolled her eyes at Brian. “I’m gonna hang out here and wait for news from everybody. Thanks for the offer, though.” She leaned up and kissed Brian on the cheek. “You boys have fun.”

“I think we just might,” Roman murmured, letting his gaze come to rest on the tall, strapping racer leaning against the kitchen counter. 

Brian obliviously finished stacking the plates in the cupboard and then turned to his friend. “Ready?”

“Set, Go,” Roman replied, and with that the duo headed for the door.

Dom took a deep breath and brought his boot to rest on the clutch pedal. Putting his game face on, he glanced over at the bullet-silver 2001 Lamborghini Diablo 6.0 VT to his left. Millionaire financier Silas Franklin flashed a sleazy smile at him from the driver’s seat, causing Dom to roll his eyes. Normally, he didn’t bother with wealthy wanna-be-racer types playing pretend in their luxury toy cars, but the Swedes had made him desperate for suckers to race, and he wasn’t about to pass an easy-money opportunity like this one up. Dom forced his nerves to a rumble, a rumble that matched the growl of the engine beneath his feet. 

Vince leaned into the window of the Charger. “You can smoke this guy in your sleep, boss. That glass slipper of a car ain’t good for nothing but a cute turn. This is a straight shot.” Dom stared down the empty air strip, squinting to see the cones that signaled the finish line. Even without burning any NOS–“none of your laboratory equipment” had been Franklin’s terms–the Charger could easily overpower the Lambo.

“Just have a beer ready at the finish line.” Dom cracked a smile at his childhood friend. Vince grinned back, slapped the hood of the Dodge, and walked away.

“So are we gonna get this thing started, or what?” Franklin called over the roar of the engines. Dom heard the nervous excitement in the driver’s voice, and knew the race was already his.

“Time is money,” he said, turning his razor-focused eyes to the pavement in front of him and tightening his grip on the wheel. With just a gentle touch of his foot on the gas, 900 horses revved from under the Charger’s hood. The tachometer flashed to 3000 RPM.

Vincent strode out in front of the two shining cars, nothing more than mild interest on his face. “On your mark....Get set....Go!” He squinted as the vehicles shot out from behind the starting line. 

_Nice and easy, Toretto_ , Dom thought to himself, shifting up. He eased off the clutch and pressed down on the accelerator with his other boot, but the Lamborghini roared its expensive engine and kept right alongside him. Dom couldn’t shake the knot in the pit of his stomach, no matter how high he shifted. Any other day, this ride would be like racing a school bus, but tonight, Dom felt like he was a teenager, racing even before he got his license, having to prove himself all over again. Back then, every quarter mile was hard won, and he would often cross the finish line in a cloud of smoke, if he even crossed it at all. He had spent years building up his reputation, his cars, and his team to a point where he could race without his fears haunting him in the rearview mirror. Now, though, as the silver car crept in front of the Dodge, he felt the familiar doubt rise in him. If the whole city had heard about Pearce, surely they had heard about Dom’s failure too, how he had choked on a simple turn. 

Dom might still be racing with his reputation on the line, but there was one big difference between this night and the ones of his youth, Dom reminded himself, and that difference was Brian O’Conner. When Brian had entered his life, he had quickly overtaken all the things that mattered to Dom–fame, fast cars, fierce driving–and sped ahead to be the one that mattered most. Brian had promised Dom last night in the garage that he would be with him through everything, and Dom believed him. 

_I never cared for gossip anyway_. Dom grabbed the gearshift and rocketed the Charger into the next gear, leaving his worries in the dust behind him. In a matter of seconds, he closed the gap between him and his competitor, pulling the Dodge up even with the Italian car. Toretto could tell from the sounds of the engine that the luxury car was reaching its limit. “If you can’t handle that, you’re not going to like _this_ ,” the experienced racer said aloud as he pressed harder on the throttle, pushing past a fuming Silas and climbing to 130 miles per hour. 

In front of him, the finish line loomed closer and closer. _No problem at all_. Dom smiled, easily shifting the Dodge up into the highest gear. The thrill of accelerating took over his thoughts. He wasn’t concerned about the car behind him anymore. He wasn’t concerned about controlling the Dodge at a speed that most drivers would never dare approach. This was his element; he had full mastery of the vehicle. A Toretto drives a car–never lets a car drive him. It was a sharp contrast to the way Silas sat in his Lamborghini, furious that his flashy piece wasn’t the legend he had expected it to be.

The cones that marked the end of the race were sent tumbling over as the Charger zoomed by. Dom brought the Dodge to a smooth stop, waiting for the spent Lambo to cross the line. It was several seconds before Silas’ tires screeched in a sloppy halt. Dom wasn’t usually one for gloating, but with the Dodge’s engine still idling he gave it a hearty rev for good measure. The 900 horses under the hood were music to his ears. 

“Al _right_!” Vince hollered, jogging towards the finish line. There was nothing like a one-on-one straight-track race to bring a grin to any racer’s face. It was here that the raw power of the cars shone through. Vince walked up to the Charger and ceremoniously opened the door for his childhood best friend, making a grand motion with his arm and stealing a smug glance at Silas. 

Dom rose out of the car and turned to look at the wreck next to him. Smoke billowed out from both ends of the Lambo, and the tires looked like steaks left on the grill too long.

“Somethin’ burning?” Vince jokingly sniffed the air, but inhaled the smoke and began to cough. 

Dom chuckled and landed a hard slap on his back. “That’s what you get for being a sore winner,” he said. The burly mechanic shook his head, a faint smile lingering on his face, and strode over to the distressed man at the Lamborghini. A wrecked car was a shame no matter whose name was on the title. Dom felt sorry for Silas; he had, after all, been in his situation only yesterday.

“I know a good mechanic if you need a fix-up.” Dom offered, studying the damage. 

Silas stood up from his examination of the scratches on the front skirt. His face turned from concern to anger. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, asshole? I bet you’d fuck up the transmission just like the bastard who worked on her before.” He gave Dom and Vince a long look up and down and then scoffed, “No way am I letting you lay a dirty hand on her.”

Rage flashed across Vince’s face. He tried to step towards Silas, but Dom threw out a muscular arm to stop him. 

“It’s not worth the lawsuit, Vince,” Toretto cautioned, although he left the edge in his voice for everyone to hear. Normally, he wouldn’t let anyone speak to him like that, but he had made a promise to his team, and to Brian. “Let’s just collect our money and leave this pile of shit. And his car.” He dropped his arm from in front of Vince, who smirked and held out his hand to the other man. 

“Think you can manage to put some cash in this dirty hand?” Vince asked. Silas grumbled some insult under his breath but motioned for his attendant to bring over a black briefcase. Vince snatched it from the man and turned back to the Charger, where Dom was already waiting in the driver’s seat. 

Toretto climbed the front stairs two at a time, the dent in his confidence having been repaired. It was stupid, really, to have been anxious about the race. The night before had been a one-time mistake, a smudge on his perfect scorecard. Right now, nothing could diminish his morale. 

At least, that’s what Dom thought until he opened the front door. The scene hit him like a lifted Chevy going 90. Brian and Roman were alone on the couch in the dimly lit living room, drinking with the TV playing softly in the background. Pearce’s arm was around Brian’s shoulders across the back of the couch. They were both a couple beers in, judging from the empty bottles on the coffee table, and Roman was closer– _much_ closer–to Brian than Dom could be comfortable with. At the sound of the door opening, Brian turned his head and his eyes lit up.

“Hey, Dom, how’d your race go?”

“What the hell is this, O’Conner?” Dom snapped back. Brian’s brow furrowed.

“What? What do you mean?” The blond asked.

“What do you think I mean? I walk in and you’re on the couch with your _ex_ , he’s got his fuckin’ arm around you–”

“Woah, slow down, man!” Roman distanced himself from Brian on the couch and started to stand. “We weren’t doing nothing–”

“Pearce, I think it’s time to go.” Dom’s voice rose, despite his efforts to keep it level.

“Nah, man, I ain’t going anywhere.” Roman put his beer down, clearly ready to fight if that’s what it came down to.

“You might wanna ask yourself whose house you’re in before I have to remind you.” Dom’s fist clenched. He had put up with Roman’s clear passes at Brian for long enough.

“You wanna fight, Toretto? We can fuckin’ fight. I don’t care _whose_ house I’m in–”

“Enough.” Brian stood up, his deep voice cutting through the argument. “Roman, don’t be an idiot. Take a fuckin’ drive.” Brian tossed the Supra keys to Pearce, who caught them against his chest, surprised. Brian crossed his arms and locked eyes with Dom. Roman swore under his breath and shoved his way past the owner of the house, who would have decked him right there if it wasn’t for Brian. Pearce slammed the door behind him and Dom’s jaw twitched.

“Dom, baby. What’s going on?” Brian addressed his lover, his voice gentle.

“Nah, Brian, don’t ‘baby’ me. You really can’t tell why I might be pissed off right now?”

“No, Dom, I really can’t.” His tone was steadily gaining an edge, growing impatient at Dom’s yelling. “Are you pissed off because your friends have all stood up to support you when you needed them? Because Roman set aside the fact that you have never even given him the time of day to come be on your team?”

“ _My_ team? You think he came here for _me_? Are you really that oblivious?” It pained Toretto to hear the rage in his own voice, but he was so frustrated–how could Brian not see? “Brian, he’s had his hands all over you this whole fuckin’ time!”

The confusion on Brian’s face dropped as he realized what Dom was implying. The blond didn’t have as fiery of a temper as his lover, but he still wasn’t going to let anyone question his loyalty to his man, especially Dom himself. Brian did his best to stay calm, but his tightened jaw signaled a change in his attitude. “Dom, how could you think–”

“I’m not going to let that asshole make me look like a fool!”

“Are you kidding me?” Brian’s deep voice tore through the room louder than a spoon engine. “Even when we’re arguing, you’re going to make this about you.”

“What the _fuck_ is that supposed to mean, O’Conner?” Dom’s icy tone reminded Brian of when they first met, when Brian had been no more than an irritating customer. This Dominic Toretto was a different man than the one who loved him. 

“Maybe you need a break from all that racing, Dom. It’s clearly fucking with your head, or else you wouldn’t be suggesting what I think you are,” Brian said. It made him sick to his stomach to imagine Dom thinking he would ever hurt him in that way. “I don’t know who you are right now. We can talk when you’re thinking straight.” The blond racer brushed past Dom on his way to the front door. “Get some sleep.” _I love you_ , he thought, but bit it back. Without looking over his shoulder, he opened the door and marched out.

On the front stoop, Brian’s eyes immediately stung with the threat of tears. What had he just done? The rush of anger he had initially felt had been hijacked by a deep, unsettling worry. He shouldn’t be driving away from his problems, but he needed space to process, to think about anything other than Dom’s broken features as he walked out that front door. He was hoping the man would run out after him, say he was sorry, ask him to come home–but he knew Dom better than that. 

The king size bed was painfully empty without Brian lying beside him. Dom tried to shake off the storm cloud of loneliness that hung above him. Once again his arrogance had driven him into a wall, but this one threatened more than just the detailing on his car. He was uncomfortably alone with his thoughts. His anger at Pearce still throbbed underneath the more overwhelming sense of guilt that Brian had left, and more importantly, that Dom had _let_ him. Now that he lay there alone, he realized it was the worst mistake he could have made. 

All he wanted was for Brian to be next to him, laying in his arms, resting his beautiful head on Dom’s chest. But when the mechanic pictured his lover, his jealousy swerved to the image of Pearce’s arm slung across Brian’s shoulder. He suddenly sat up as a wave of anxiety washed over him–did Brian go to stay the night with Pearce? His blood ran cold at the thought of them talking long into the night, Pearce comforting Brian when Dom should be there for him. _Shit, but I’m the one who made him upset in the first place._ How could he be mad at Brian? He had put him in this situation, after all; he had forced him to leave in the middle of the night. He felt like a stalled out car, unable to hit the clutch in time to prevent his abrupt deceleration.

_What could I even say to make this better?_ Dominic thought to himself in the empty room. His words had hurt Brian enough, and he realized what he had to do to get him back. He had to _show_ the man how much he loved him. 

He had to win.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_Friday **** $147,830_

* * *

Dominic Toretto was in the garage before the sun had risen. After a few hours of being unable to sleep, he had given up and decided to get to work early. Usually working on the cars was something that calmed him down, but he knew nothing would make him feel better until he spoke to Brian. 

Toretto spent the first couple hours tuning up the Charger, polishing its midnight black paint job and checking the tire pressure over and over. After getting the same readings for the third time in a row, Dom glanced at the clock. Everyone else was just getting up now, and it was still another hour before the garage would fill with the voices and laughter of his team. The mechanic sat on a stool, already exhausted. He would love to rest until the others arrived, but every time he stopped moving, his mind filled with the image of Brian’s back to him, walking out the doorway. He would never be able to sleep in the laid-back seats of the Dodge, much less in his own bed. He was in for a long day. _But if it means I’m closer to seeing Brian, I’ll take it,_ the burly mechanic thought as he picked up his wrench and walked back to the Charger.

“You’re here awfully early,” Letty’s voice rang out. Dom jolted at the break in the silence of the morning and looked up to see his ex-lover striding toward him. He had been so absorbed in his own thoughts he hadn’t heard Letty drive up. He wasn’t looking forward to the “everything’s-fine” facade he would have to put on, but he couldn’t let the team see him damaged, especially on their last night of racing. The experienced racer stood up, took a deep breath in, and was soon looking like a showroom Chevy–confident on the outside, but barely running underneath. Letty, however, knew him well enough to see through at least part of his mask.

“You look like shit!” The woman exclaimed. 

“Yeah, uh… didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Damn, papi, you gotta take it easy. Night before the big race. I mean, I know you two can’t get enough of each other, but come on, man.” Letty winked at him, oblivious to the storm raging inside. She slapped his shoulder as she passed, taking a comfortable seat on the couch. “Sleep in different beds if you have to.”

The words pierced Dom to the core. _You don’t know the half of it_. He did his best to manage a slight smirk, but Letty didn’t even notice, having already moved on to her next topic.

“While you two were busy doing your own prep, I was coming up with a whole plan of attack.” She looked to Dom for the go-ahead, and took his lack of a response for a positive one. “So, last night went well, right? Like, _really_ well. I think we can recreate those racing groups with a couple of tweaks and get our last 60 grand easy.” 

Normally, Toretto would be eager to hear Letty’s line up and offer his own suggestions, but he found it hard to pay attention when all he could think about was Brian–when he would come into the shop, whether or not he would be arriving with Pearce, if he would hear Dom out… 

“So, obviously Roman and Brian should take the eastside.” Letty said. Dom whipped his head up, unable to forgo the reaction. He never could fake his emotions well.

“I was just thinking,” Letty spoke cautiously, uncertain of how to best steer around Dom’s feelings. “I mean, they race really well together. They always have. If Roman’s drifting is really anything like I heard about the other night, they’ll totally crush the relay.”

“Yeah, no, it sounds good.” Dom walked over and sat down on the couch next to Letty. He ran a hand over his face and rubbed his eyes. “Sorry. I’m just tired.” 

“I know you don’t like Roman, Dom, but the race–”

“Letty, I said it’s fine.” Dom snapped at her, pain clear in his voice. 

“Okay. Good.” Letty felt awkward, getting the idea that there was something going on she wasn’t aware of. “Anyway, I think Vince should go with them for any pit stops they might need. He knows those cars pretty well. Tessa and Leon are doing a straight game downtown, and they need a third. I can go with them or I can help out the boys. You have your choice of where you want to be.”

“We’re only doing two races tonight?”

“Well, yeah… but they’re both 30 grand. So when we win, we’ll get the rest of what we need.” 

Dom grunted. “Sounds good to me.”

“Where do you wanna go, Dom?” 

“I can’t race tonight.” Toretto spoke before thinking.

“What? Are you kidding?” Letty had known this man for years and she had never witnessed him pass up an opportunity to race. “Are you okay, man?”

“I just don’t want to race tonight. It doesn’t seem like anyone needs me, and I’m just… tired.”

“Yeah. You said that.” She stood up without any further words and placed a caring hand on Dominic’s shoulder. “If you want to share the real reason, let me know.” Without waiting for the mechanic to react, she dropped her arm and headed toward the Mazda.

The other racers trickled in over the next hour. Every time Dom heard an engine roaring up the driveway into the garage, he strained his ears to identify the car, but none of them were Brian’s Lancer Evolution VII. Leon was the first to arrive after Letty, followed by Vince, then Tessa. Dom’s anxiety only grew when he realized that Roman and Brian were the only ones who had yet to show. Were they together? Had Brian turned to Pearce for a shoulder to cry on? Dom was so devastated and fighting so many emotions, that it was hard to imagine Brian might not be going through the same torture. He had fucked up, and he knew it, but even with the guilt, he still couldn’t manage to shake the jealousy he felt whenever he pictured Roman’s arm around Brian. The more he thought about it, the more he recognized the consistent moves that Roman had been laying on his lover the entire week. Small touches, exchanged looks, jokes, endless flirting. It was impossible not to feel possessive of the man he loved. Dom thought about Brian’s reaction to his accusations last night, though, and wondered if the blond truly hadn’t recognized the flirting. It was so glaringly obvious to Dom, but his guard was almost always up when it came to Brian.

Another car approached the garage, and Dom found himself holding his breath as the low-riding Supra rolled into the workspace. His legs felt weak and his mind was scrambled thinking of what he would say to Brian. The driver’s door opened, and Pearce stepped out from behind the tinted glass window. He expected Brian to exit the passenger side, confirming his fears about where his lover had gone last night, but there was no one else inside the car. Pearce shot Dom a glance, clearly guarding his anger over the previous night’s events. The mechanic didn’t entirely know what to do. There was no way in hell he was apologizing to Roman. 

Ask any street racer in LA to describe Dominic Toretto and they would all say the same thing: confident. No matter what car, what course, Dom could always see the road ahead. It was how he led his team and how he dominated the streets. He had overtaken countless challengers with his ability to stay cool under pressure and had scared away many more with his fearless image. But now Dom felt like he was buried under a mountain of wreckage. He wanted desperately to know where Brian was, that he was okay. But he couldn’t bear the thought of asking Pearce and having to admit that they had spent the night apart, that Dom had let Brian walk out into the warm night and drive away.

As Letty assembled the crew to detail the evening’s line up, Dom kept a carefully trained eye on Pearce. The man was too busy dramatically retelling racing stories with Leon to catch the icy glare. 

“Hey, grandpas,” Letty called over the cackling men, “Let me know when you’re done reliving your glory days and can join the rest of us in the present.” Vince and Tessa snickered and Leon and Roman fell silent. Letty looked to Dom, but her business partner seemed to be in his own world. She decided it was best to just continue.

“Leon, Tessa, and I will take the Nissan and Mazda to Central. Roman, Vince is gonna spot you and Brian relaying against Jackson.” The mechanic paused from her charts to scan the garage for O’Conner’s golden hair and shining face. Confused, she turned to Dom. “Where is your–”

Before Dom could even start searching for an explanation, Pearce cut in. “Brian’s gonna meet me at the track.”

Toretto felt a whole new wave of emotions wash over him. The most overpowering of all was relief. Brian was okay, he still planned to race, and Dom could see him tonight. But under the knee-weakening alleviation was a current of profound hurt. Had Dom’s worst fears come true? 

Vince’s low voice broke through his thoughts. “What about you, boss?” Dom shook the worry off and looked up to see his team staring back at him. The group of racers rarely did anything without Dom’s approval first, and so they naturally assumed he would have a say before they broke. But Dom had no words. How could he inspire these people, when he couldn’t even tell them what was wrong? As he looked at their expectant faces, though, the burly mechanic remembered all of the times they had brought him back when his tank was empty. Dom met Letty’s eyes, and her expression was full of encouragement. Even when he doubted himself, his team never did, and they needed him now more than ever. Dom smiled for the first time in what felt like days, pride swelling in his chest. 

“To me, you’re all Torettos. You’re my family. And I know we can kick ass tonight. Let’s show those Swedish bastards a fuckin’ party.”

Letty smiled approvingly, then turned back to the rest of the team. “You heard the man. Let’s get to work.” She clapped Leon on the back as she headed to the Mazda. “Maybe you boys can come up with some _new_ stories to tell.”

Brian squinted into the setting LA sun and took one hand off the wheel to rub the back of his head. His neck hurt from spending the night in the Evo, seat back as far as it could go, with nothing but his jacket for warmth. But even if he had been in a five star hotel he wouldn’t have gotten any sleep. His mind had been replaying the argument with Dom all night. It had happened so fast: one minute his lover had stepped into the house and the next Brian was storming out. He kept thinking of different things he could have said, or ways he could have apologized, but above all he couldn’t stop thinking about how _stupid_ he had been for walking out that door. For walking away from the best thing that had ever happened to him. Brian prayed that Dom would be at the track. He was afraid that he wouldn’t get a chance to apologize, or worse, that Dom wouldn’t accept his apology. For now, though, he still had a race to win. 

He took the exit for downtown, guiding his Lancer between the few commuters who were headed into the city center. Brian could feel his apprehension in every skidding stop and every abrupt turn. But at the same time, being on the road gave him a much needed sense of control, when it felt like everything else in his life was up in the air. The golden haired racer took a deep breath as he turned the corner onto Central, hoping to see Dom’s Dodge Charger catching the vibrant purples and oranges of the sky. His heart sank. The sleek vehicle, and its handsome driver, were nowhere in sight. Brian urgently scanned the block, but stopped when he saw Roman and Vince calling and waving to him. _Maybe he’s just late_ , Brian thought to himself, but he knew Dom never missed the start of a race. The blond driver pulled over to where his friends were waiting on the curb.

“Christ, man, where were you all day?” Roman leaned down and took note of Brian’s disheveled appearance through the rolled-down window of the car. “What did you do, sleep in here or something? You look like shit.”

Brian responded with a hollow laugh. He felt like shit too.

“Hey, man, you seen Dom around tonight?”

Roman sighed. “I don’t think he’s coming. Might have gone to the other race, who knows.” He could see that Brian was off, and he hated to think that he’d contributed to it.

“He was acting fuckin’ weird all day,” Vince added from behind Roman. 

Brian’s fake smile faltered and the tension he had tried to keep at bay rose again. _Where is Dom?_ This seemed like the longest day of his life, and the night was only just beginning. 

Vince and Roman detached from the window at the sound of engines revving in the distance. Their competition had arrived, and from the sound of it, it was going to be a pretty fair fight. Brian locked eyes with Roman and the two friends exchanged a nod.

“Good luck,” Brian said in his deep voice, speaking as much to Roman as himself. 

As darkness fell, Roman pulled the Supra up to the spray-painted starting line. He looked across at the other driver, Damion Jackson, one of the fastest up-and-coming racers on the circuit. He sat behind the wheel of a purple Honda Civic hatchback. The team couldn’t figure how such young talent could afford such a high bet, but they weren’t in a position to dismiss offers. _Besides, he’s in a Civic. How hard can this be?_ Roman scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Vince stepped in front of the two cars, looking even more surly than usual. 

“Racers ready?” His booming voice was barely audible over the echoing engines. “Set...” Roman released his iron grip on the steering wheel and moved his right hand down to rest on the gear stick. 

“Go.” As soon as the word reached his ears, Roman shifted up and slammed his boot on the accelerator. 

“Take that, prodigy.” A grin crept onto his face as he felt the car speed up, but it quickly dropped when he looked over and saw that Jackson had also gotten a good start out of the gate. 

“That’s alright,” Roman shook his head, trying to keep his cool. He still had a majority of the quarter-mile track in front of him, plenty of distance to gain a lead. Steadily, Roman shifted the Toyota again and again, but Jackson easily kept pace. Just as Roman prepared to shift once more he heard a familiar woosh of air and recognized the sound instantly. The kid had released his NOS. Roman watched Jackson rocket forward. “If that’s how you wanna play it...” He quickly flipped open the cap on his own NOS button and pressed his thumb down hard. The Supra closed the gap between the two cars within moments. But just as he pulled up even, the Civic shot forward again. 

Despite being left in the dust, Roman couldn’t help but laugh. The young racer had blown it; by spending both his NOS canisters so early, he’d practically handed over the 30k on a silver platter. 

“You’re gonna regret that one,” he declared. He waited until he could see the sedan return to its non-chemical speed, and then pressed his other NOS button. The orange burst flamed down the block. Squinting at the scenery rushing by, he could just barely make out Brian and the other car waiting at the exchange point, and Jackson right before them. The two cars were only a few yards apart, then a few feet, then a few inches. But as Roman prepared to pass his opponent, the Honda lit up yet again and burst across the finish line, making the Supra look like it was on blocks. _What the fucking hell?_ Roman couldn’t believe his eyes. Jackson had outfitted his Civic with three NOS canisters and a three part release system. Astonished, the racer glided past the relay stop and slowed down. He saw Brian’s Mitsubishi come to life, but it was no use. The silver Honda that held Jackson’s partner had a several second lead over Brian–an eternity in the racing world.

O’Conner had watched the upset helplessly from the curb, his eyes widening when Jackson blew a third round of nitrous. Two canisters of the flammable gas could blast even the heaviest car right off the road, but the kid must have made some serious modifications to the Civic for it to be able to handle three. _Dom would be impressed_ , Brian thought. That was one of the many qualities Brian admired about his lover: Toretto’s ability to see past the competition and simply appreciate a good car. In fact, it was his mechanic’s eye that had initially pulled Brian in. 

Thinking of Dom made Brian’s palms sweat on the steering wheel. He knew how much Toretto had struggled with the memory of his father, and he knew getting this money was another step towards healing. Brian had to win this race for him. 

The racer brought his attention back to the street in front of him. The Civic was about 500 feet ahead, cruising like a golf cart at a resort. Brian smiled. _Sometimes it pays to be underestimated_. His feet danced back and forth between the throttle and the clutch, increasing the speed of the Lancer until he was within a hundred feet of the Honda. After positioning just right, he waited a moment, watching and listening to determine if the sedan was accelerating. _He won’t even know what hit him_ , Brian thought, then slammed his thumbs down on both NOS buttons. The double punch to his stomach threw him back against the seat furiously. O’Conner felt a sharp pain in the back of his head, exactly where he had hit the asphalt a few days ago. Suddenly, his vision went black. His heartbeat rose to match the speed of the car, which was now swerving dangerously out of control. 

It was only a second later that the world cleared up, and Brian blinked away the noise just in time to see the fast-approaching store front. His racer’s instincts responded instantly, taking control of his arms and legs. He hit the brake pedal, then grabbed the steering wheel with both hands and yanked it to the left. The Mitsubishi’s calipers reacted immediately, forcing steel brake pads against iron rotors. The immense friction brought the wheels down from their rapid rotation, and the car skidded sideways for ten feet until it hit the curb. A crash echoed against the building fronts, tires colliding with concrete. The sedan tilted dangerously to the side before rocking back. Brian didn’t exhale until he felt the comforting _thunk_ of all four wheels returning to the road. He sat in the car, hands shaking on the steering wheel. He could hardly believe what had just happened, and that it hadn’t been worse. He felt dizzy and weak, and more than anything he wished Dom was there with him.

Brian didn’t even bother looking up to see if his opponent had crossed the finish line. He knew he had lost the race, but the sinking feeling of the loss had yet to set in over the shock of his near-accident. 

Out of the corner of his eye, O’Conner saw the blinding light of two cars approaching. He grimaced and turned away, but the sudden move brought a throbbing pain to the base of his neck. 

Roman barely waited for the Supra to come to a stop before leaping out and running towards the crippled Evo. “Brian?” He cried, opening the driver’s side door. “Brian! Can you hear me? Are you okay? Brian!” O’Conner winced as he nodded slowly. 

“Roman… I fucked up.” If he wasn’t able to control an accelerating car, could he even call himself a racer?

Roman furrowed his brow and looked into the eyes of his shaken ex-lover. “Jesus, are you really worried about the race? You’re concussed!”

“It’s whiplash,” Brian said, though he was still foggy. “Where’s Dom?”

“Where’s– what the hell, man? We gotta get you some help.” Roman glanced through the passenger window to the other side of the Mitsubishi and saw Vince surveying the damaged tires. “Damn it, Vince, will you pretend to care about other people for a second?” he yelled across the scratched-up hood.

The bear-like man’s face turned the color of Letty’s Cranberry Mazda. “Pretend to care?” Vince roared. The fury rang through Brian’s ears. He felt blinded all over again; in his weakened state, he was unable to step in to defend Pearce. 

“I’m not the one who lost a race to a fucking child because I was too busy joking around and making googly eyes at Prince Charming here,” Vince shouted, throwing his hand in the direction of the driver’s seat. The careless gesture stung Brian harder than any of his wounds from the crash. _Was it that obvious?_ The guilt in his gut deepened. When Dom had first mentioned Roman’s advances, Brian thought his vision was clouded by jealousy, but if even thick-skulled Vince picked up on Pearce’s moves, maybe Brian was the one who needed to see more clearly. 

In the distance, he could hear the growl of an approaching car. Maybe it was Jackson coming to collect his dues. O’Conner focused his swirling mind on Roman’s hands, which clenched into tight fists as the man rose to his full height. The concern had been wiped off his face, replaced with a fiery glare.

“You wanna say that again?” Roman asked through gritted teeth.

Instead of answering, Vince locked eyes with the shorter man and slowly stalked around the front of the car until their sweaty, puffed out chests were just a few inches apart.

Vince growled, “This is your fault. Fuckin’ fag.” 

“The fuck did you just say?!” A thunderous, familiar voice rang out, and Brian’s heart skipped a beat. Vince swiveled around with surprise to see Dominic Toretto striding up to the wrecked Evo. His large silver cross and chain swung against his black muscle tee, the lamplight catching the shadows on his muscular arms with every hasty step. Brian felt like he had been stranded without gas in the middle of the hot desert and Dom was his saving grace. 

The burly mechanic didn’t stop his momentum as he charged at Vince, grabbing his shirt with both hands and throwing him against the hood of the Lancer. 

From his front row seat behind the steering wheel, Brian studied Toretto’s face. Anyone could have felt the rage radiating off Dom, but only Brian noticed the slight creases below his lover’s dark eyes that betrayed his underlying exhaustion. Dom kept his childhood best friend pinned against the car. “What the _fuck_ makes you think you can talk to one of my racers like that?” he yelled. 

Fear flashed in Vince’s eyes but it was quickly replaced by fury. The bearded racer was fed up. 

“I’m fucking tired of you letting any pansy with a driver’s license and a speeding ticket come in off the street!” Vince barked back. 

“You make me fucking sick, Vince. Pearce could drive circles around you!” The men’s’ shouts filled the street like competing engines. Through the windshield, Brian could see beads of sweat on Dom’s burly arms and neck. 

“He lost the race, Dom! You can’t side with him after that!”

“I don’t care if he stayed at the fuckin’ starting line! We never turn our back on family.” Dom shoved Vince against the windshield and took a step back, allowing the other man to raise himself off the hood and brush off his shirt. 

“Get the hell out of my sight,” Dom said, the contempt in his tone giving the words a sharp edge. Vince looked as if he had something to retort back, but he bit his tongue under Dom’s fierce gaze and slunk back to the Jetta.

Dom at last turned and met Brian’s stunned stare. His hard expression softened immediately. The mechanic hungrily took in the sight of his lover as if they had been separated for years, not just one night. Brian felt Dom’s presence wash over him, and it was like coming home after a long, exhausting drive. The blond felt safe, protected–he felt the missing part of him click back into place. They stood like this for a moment, relishing each other’s presence, frozen in time where the only thing that mattered to each man was the other. 

Dom was the first to break out of the haze, concern overtaking his expression as he processed the wreck and his lover still in the car. He scrambled around the still-open driver’s door and crouched next to Brian, gently cupping his lover’s face in his strong hands. “Brian, baby... are you alright?”

The question made all of Brian’s anxiety and pain melt away. “I am now.”

Toretto could have cried from relief. He had been so worried that Brian wouldn’t talk to him, that his arrogance had chased him away. All that mattered now, though, was that Brian was okay. “ _Fuck,_ ” he breathed, “let’s get you out of here.” Dom reached into the cab to help the shaken man out of the car. The blond’s bracing grip on Dom’s arms sent shocks through the both of them. Just one night apart had felt like a lifetime, and they were craving each other’s touch and stability. With Dom’s help, Brian slowly rose from the car and walked around to rest on the hood. He didn’t let go of Toretto’s hand. 

“Brian...” Dom started, trying to sort through the jumbled pile of gears and parts in his mind to fix up a proper apology deserving of this amazing man. “I–” He started and stopped, sputtering like an engine trying to come to life. He was tired of hiding his feelings, of isolating himself knowing that it would only leave him worse off. The burly mechanic looked into his lover’s eyes, where he saw his adoration reflected back at him. Brian’s piercing blue gaze gave him the jumpstart he needed. “I’m so sorry. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. It’s just–my feelings for you are so strong, I feel it in every part of me. I got scared... that I wasn’t strong enough, or good enough, or just _enough_. Instead of talking about it I let it control me and make me jealous. I can’t fuckin’ believe I yelled at you. The minute I did it I regretted it. And–God, when you left, I felt like my whole world had just walked out the door. Last night alone was the worst night of my life, Brian. Being without you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” Dom stared into his lover’s eyes as if the millions of shades of blue could reveal what he was thinking.

“Me too,” Brian said softly. Seeing this strong man be so vulnerable made the pounding in Brian’s head vanish. They had always been two interlocking components to a transmission, moving together to produce record speeds. But Dom’s anger last night had been like a misfire that spun them out of control. Now, though, hearing his lover’s apology and watching him stand up for Roman, Brian knew they were operating at an even higher capacity. 

“Dom, baby,” The blond continued, trying to sort through his speeding thoughts. “I know it’s not easy when you don’t know Roman, and these last few days you’ve been dealing with so much. You’ve been carrying this family on your back. I should have realized what you were feeling, and–well to be honest, I should have realized that Roman was trying to make moves. But we were together a long time ago, and now I have you, Dom, and… fuck, I don’t even know what to say. When I look at you...” The blond brought his hand up to gently brush the burly mechanic’s jawline. “I can’t imagine there being anyone else, baby. And I promise, Roman’s a good guy. He’s my best friend. He would never want to hurt me, and not being with you would _destroy_ me.” He was so proud of Dom, not just for defending someone he had harbored a lot of complicated feelings towards, but also for defending his own sexuality in the process. 

The burly mechanic had been studying his lover closely for signs of wounds, but he stopped to meet Brian’s gaze. “You trust him, and that’s all that matters,” he said. Looking in the direction Vince had driven off, he added, “Besides, that’s something I should have done a long time ago.” The lemon of a man had always meant nothing but trouble, cursing at Brian behind his back and challenging him to his face. When he blew up at Roman, he had just shown that his bitterness ran deep. It was like looking under the hood of a beat up car and finding nothing but rusted parts.

Dom turned back to Brian, his gravelly voice filled with sincerity. “I won’t let Vince–or _anyone_ –talk to you like that ever again.” The two men moved their faces closer together, but were suddenly interrupted by the rumble of incoming cars. 

Roman, who had been respectfully inspecting the Supra to give the two lovers some space, approached them now. “Time to pay up,” he sighed. He stared at the shards of glass and metal on the ground, not wanting to face the loss. “Sorry, Dom. It’s my fault we came in last. He had three tanks of NOS, and I never saw it coming.” Roman raised his gaze to study Toretto’s expression, expecting to be met with the usual frustration. But instead, the strong racer had a sly smile on his glistening face.

“I feel bad for Jackson,” he said, causing Brian and Roman to look at each other in confusion. 

Brian turned back to the incoming Honda, which shone under the street lights. It made for an amusing picture, the unscathed car next to the wrecked Lancer. “What are you talking about?” Brian asked. He couldn’t imagine that Dom had misunderstood what had happened. “He beat us.” 

“Sure, but now we have a much bigger advantage,” Dom replied. 

“And what’s that?” Roman questioned skeptically. 

“Intel. We know his little hat trick, but he’s got nothing on us.” 

“But we already raced him. What could we possibly have up our sleeve?”

Dom’s smile deepened. “Me.”

Brian wanted to roll his eyes at Dom’s flair for the dramatic, but the excitement radiating off of his lover’s toned body was infectious. He couldn’t bring himself to take his eyes off the man, even when he heard Jackson’s gang cut their engines. He watched Toretto walk up next to his Charger as Jackson emerged from the Honda. The subtle flex of his neck muscles was Dom’s only sign of stress. 

“Dominic Toretto.” The young racer did his best to sound intimidating, but the awe in his voice was clear. “It’s an honor to finally meet you.”

Dom flashed a smile at the compliment. “Likewise.” 

“Shame you missed the race, though.” 

Dom shrugged. “I’m just in time for the encore.”

Jackson merely raised his eyebrows in response.

“I heard you’ve outfitted that Civic up pretty nice,” Dom continued. He peered at the purple hatchback behind Jackson. “Got some fancy gadgets?” Toretto left a hint of amusement in his voice. 

The young racer followed Dom’s gaze from the golden tail pipe along the low frame to the clear hood, which revealed gold plated pipes and gears tinged purple by neon lights that lined the interior of the frame.

Toretto spoke again, his tone more pensive now. “It’s not all about the look though. A real race car doesn’t need the bells and whistles to shine.” He leaned back against the Dodge and ran his hand over the gleaming hood. “A _real_ race car will last generations if you take care of it.”

“Look, man, I got somewhere to be,” Jackson said. “You got a point to this?”

Dom laughed off the younger racer’s flippancy. _This kid thinks he’s hot shit_. _Time to teach him a lesson_. He stood up straight and folded his glistening arms across his powerful chest. “I’d like to race you myself.”

A look of shock came across Jackson’s face for just a moment, before he quickly recovered his composure. Brian caught it, though, and he was sure Dom had seen it too. Any up-and-coming racer in LA could only dream of being challenged by Dominic Toretto, and few would dare pass up the opportunity.

But Jackson knew how to play his cards right. “What’s in it for me?”

Dom hesitated for a moment. The kid was smart, and Dom doubted that he would let him go double or nothing. _I gotta make it big_ , he thought.

Toretto unfolded his arms and reached into the back pocket of his dark black jeans, pulling out a light pink piece of paper. Brian’s eyes widened, staring at the folded paper in his lover’s hand. _He couldn’t possibly_ – the blond thought, worry rising within him. The street seemed to fall silent as Dom nonchalantly rose the pink slip to the Dodge into the air. 

“How about the best car in LA?” 

Jackson no longer tried to hide his surprise. “You wanna race for _pink slips_?” 

“You win, you get the Dodge. 900 horses of Detroit muscle, just fixed with a top-of-the-line hemi V-8 engine.” Dom gave the polished black car a look of love Brian distinctly recognized. When Toretto cared about something or someone, he _really_ cared about them. 

“And if I lose?” Jackson asked suspiciously.

“Then I’ll just have to add that shiny little Civic to my collection.” As he turned back to the sleek Dodge, Dom dropped the arrogant smirk he had mustered to do the deal. Beyond the car, he could see Brian carefully watching him, but this time Dom made no effort to put the mask back on. He wasn’t going to hide his feelings from the man he loved, not anymore. 

Dom took a relaxed breath in, then out. It was here, behind the wheel of the Charger, in the valley between the mountainous buildings of his city, that he felt at home. Given the stakes, it would be crazy not to be nervous, but the racer felt a certain tranquility come over him. He could see Brian in the distance, perched at his usual spot two-thirds down the raceway, leaning on Pearce for support in his still-woozy state. While only a few hours ago the scene would have filled him with rage, now Dom was glad that Pearce was there to take care of Brian. 

Jackson’s second strolled up in front of the two cars with a grease-smudged bandana. 

“Racers ready?” he called. Dom placed one hand on the top of the steering wheel and brought the other to rest on the gearshift. 

“Get set...” The mechanic allowed himself one last look at Brian glowing under a far away street light. It was just the adrenaline shock he needed to turn his attention back to the track in front of him.

“GO!” The red bandana didn’t even make it to the ground before the two cars were already out of the gate, their speedometers rapidly climbing. Dom steadily accelerated out of first and into second, and felt Jackson follow him a moment after. _Just like Pearce said. He likes to be the underdog_. Dom knew that Jackson would wait for Dom to make each move, a level of patience not usually seen in beginning racers.

The two cars flew down the avenue, the Dodge’s nose only a few feet in front of the Honda. With each shift, he could picture the pressure wheel forcing the clutch off of the flywheel, disengaging the engine long enough for the gear shaft and countershaft to realign along a new gear. _If I can just keep him a second behind..._ That was all the edge Dom would need to win. He flipped open the first trigger on his steering wheel and pressed his thumb down, hearing the familiar woosh of air as nitrous oxide flowed into the V-8 engine. The car bolted ahead, but as he suspected, Jackson soon pulled up even, having released his own NOS. Taking a deep breath, Toretto opened the second button, but left his finger suspended over it. He needed to get the timing just right, so that he would cross the finish line before Jackson could use his third canister. 

As the spray-painted line came into view, Dom looked over to catch the panic on Jackson’s face. The young racer had realized that if he wanted to have any shot at using both remaining canisters, he would need to fire one now. Dom had forced his hand, and Jackson had no choice but to lay it all down. Half a second later, the Honda flew past him. Toretto kept a level head, resisting the urge to go as fast as he could. He waited for the opposing car to begin its deceleration then, only yards from the finish line, Dom slammed his thumb down on the second button. He leaned back into the seat, letting the speed of the car take over as the Honda’s back lights got closer and closer. For a split second, the two cars were even. Then just as quickly the Civic was behind him. Through the images and sounds streaming past, Toretto could just barely detect a third canister of NOS go off next to him. 

It was several seconds later that the Dodge began to return to a controllable speed. Dom saw the Civic soaring down the street in front of him, but there was no finish line. As he shifted down, he glanced in the mirror at the lights of the city reflecting off a white band of pavement. For the first time in the race, panic struck through him. _Who had crossed it first?_ The question rattled around Dom’s mind. He turned the wheel and pointed the Dodge back toward the course. A crowd had gathered along the street, attracted by the echoing roars of the supercars. Dom spotted Brian and Pearce, who were the first to break from the throng and pour out onto the pavement. Dom brought the Dodge to a halt, his eyes trained on O’Conner. The nighttime lights of Los Angeles reflected off of the beautiful racer’s hair and his blue eyes glittered. He looked like a ray of sunshine cutting through the aggregating crowd. Pearce was hanging back with a wry smile on his face, but Dom barely noticed him as he stepped out of the Charger.

“Who won?” Dom asked. Brian said nothing, just looked at Dom with his boyish grin on full display. “What? Who won?” Toretto repeated. Brian beamed even wider and hooked his hands behind Dom’s neck, leaning the racer against the Dodge. His smile was contagious. “Was it me?” Toretto’s own grin widened. Brian’s eyes sparkled like the ocean along the Pacific Coast Highway. Dom felt all the worry from the last few days drain out of his body. “Yeah?”

“You did good, Toretto,” Brian said. And he kissed him. It felt like no kiss had ever felt before. Fireworks exploded in Dom’s chest; he was flying and falling all at once, and the whole world fell away except for Brian. It didn’t sink in until that moment that O’Conner was _here_ , right beside him, just like Dom had dreamt of all day. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

Brian moved his mouth away from Dom’s and gently pressed their foreheads together. The sounds of the fully assembled crowd snapped into focus around them. 

“I love you,” Dom whispered, longing desperately to again close the distance between them, even if it was mere inches. But there would be time for that later–for now, there was business to attend to. Keeping an arm around Brian’s waist, Toretto scanned the crowd for Roman.

“Hey Pearce!” He shouted, interrupting the racer mid-flirt with one of the spectators in a miniskirt. “Why don’t you call up Letty and the crew. We got more cars on our hands than we can drive.” Pearce laughed in response and pulled out his walkie talkie. 

“Here comes your delivery now,” Brian said, nodding to the crowd parting around the glowing Civic. 

“Bout time. You know, winning never gets old,” Dom smiled.

Brian rolled his eyes. He was relieved to see Dom so happy and confident. Racing lit a fire in his lover’s eyes that burned like no other, but it had been a while since Brian had gotten to enjoy the heat. 

“Good thing it doesn’t go to your head.” His teasing only made Dom grin harder.

Jackson pulled up in front of the men and cut his engine. “Can’t win ‘em all,” he said, hanging on desperately to his calm veneer. 

“Happens to the best of us, man,” Dom replied, his tone filled with sincerity. Despite the kid’s offhandedness, Dom knew he was a real racer at heart who cared much more than he would let on. 

The young racer held up his keys. “I guess these are yours now.” He tossed them over the car. Dom caught them with one hand, then passed them off to Pearce. 

“I can wait for everyone to roll up. We’ll make sure this gets back to the garage,” Roman offered. No longer blinded by jealousy, Dom had to admit Pearce made a great addition to the team. He had taken Letty and Leon’s acceptance of the racer to be a challenge to his leadership, but now he could see that Pearce shared their eagerness to work hard and the desire to have fun doing it. 

“Thanks, Pearce.” Dom gave him a meaningful nod. “I appreciate all your help.” 

Roman looked taken aback by Dom’s candor. “Hey, you know I can’t resist a chance to help out the little guy,” he quickly recovered. Toretto raised his eyebrows, but his smirk disclosed his amusement.

“Let’s get out of here,” the burly mechanic said, turning to Brian. “I don’t wanna be around when his head gets so big it explodes.” 

Pearce smiled at the couple climbing into the Dodge. It was evident to anyone how much Toretto cared for Brian, and he couldn’t deny that he had never seen the blond happier than he was now, gazing at the man in the driver’s seat next to him like he was a vintage corvette.

Dom reached down and turned the key in the ignition, bringing the Dodge roaring to life. Despite just having torn up the road, it sounded more powerful than ever. The burly mechanic shifted into first and looked up at Jackson. “Hope you can find a ride to your next appointment,” he said. 

Brian chuckled from the passenger seat and shook his head, a single golden curl falling out of place. “You’re lucky you’re so damn sexy. Otherwise your cockiness would be unbearable.” Toretto released the clutch and let out a hearty laugh that spilled from the car as the two men drove away. 

There was silence in the Dodge for a long while, no sound besides the muffled roar of the engine and the soft rumble of the highway. Brian couldn’t take his eyes off of Dom. The driver’s tan skin appeared golden in the soft glow of headlights shining through the windshield. His brow furrowed as he waited in the merge lane, carefully studying each car that whizzed by. His mouth was pulled tight in concentration, and Brian wanted nothing more than to press his lips against Dom’s with the full force of his body. The burly mechanic turned to glance up the road and caught the desire in Brian’s eyes. His lips quirked into a knowing smile as he steered the vehicle from downtown and headed out of the city towards the coast. 

“Where ya taking me, Toretto?” Brian asked, unable to keep the silence any longer. 

Dom’s smug expression remained. “Somewhere with a view.” 

Brian made a show of leaning forward and studying the hazy midnight sky. “Won’t be much to see this time of night.”

After such an emotionally taxing day and the restless night before, Dom should have been exhausted, but the spark between him and his lover made him feel like he had a full tank. “Don’t plan on doing much looking.”

Brian knew the intricacies of Los Angeles’s sprawling boulevards and web of expressways better than most locals. Dom had shown him every route through the city, every stretch that was fit for a race, and every way to get away from them quickly–street racing skills meant nothing if you didn’t know how to keep from getting caught. But beyond the city limits, where the sky lost its purplish glow and there were few sounds aside from the rumbling Charger, Brian felt like he was in a different world. It wasn’t a world that he needed to learn for survival; it was one he got to discover mile by mile. Toretto had grown up driving through the canyons on the weekends, exploring every road that led in and out of LA, and anytime he took Brian to a new vista it felt like he was letting him in on another little secret. 

They had been cruising along California Route 1 for almost 40 miles when Dom shifted down and pulled the Dodge into a scenic overlook. He cut the engine and leaned back in his seat. It was only then that Brian heard the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs below. He could picture the dark waters rushing around the jagged rocks, carving out caverns and bridges and leaving smooth surfaces as they receded. 

A deep sense of tranquility washed over the two men. The moon was high above the western horizon and it shone down in a glistening ribbon across the never-ending waves.

“I told you it would be a view, didn’t I?” Dom asked. His face had softened and there was no hint of boastfulness in his voice. 

Brian’s eyes glimmered like the ocean below. “It’s nice,” he said, meeting Dom’s gaze. “But I can think of some other things I’d like to see.” Their eyes burned into each other, the heat between them seeming to raise the temperature of the Dodge’s cabin. Brian’s legs felt weak with anticipation as both men sat savoring the tension between them. He was practically shaking, and couldn’t stop himself from yanking Dom by his collar into a passionate kiss. 

Electricity crackled through both of them when their lips met; they felt the other’s hunger, the reciprocal feeling of not just wanting, but _needing_ each other. Dom was holding the back of Brian’s head like it was the only thing anchoring him to the earth, fingers buried in his lover’s blond curls, pulling him close but never close enough. Brian’s hands were flying, trying to touch Dom everywhere at once. Slipping his fingers under Dom’s shirt elicited a gravelly, strained noise from the racer. It sent a shiver through Brian and a jolt to his cock. Dom pulled Brian’s lower lip between his teeth, drawing out a similar moan from the blond. Feeling Dom’s tongue in his mouth only increased Brian’s hunger. Their desperation for each other’s touch was overwhelming. 

Toretto scrambled for the lever of the driver’s seat while Brian swung his legs over the center console so he was straddling his lover. Dom felt a surge of heat where O’Conner’s strong thighs pressed against his own. The blond sat up, breathless, and tore off his t-shirt, flinging it onto the passenger's seat. Dom grabbed the hem of his black muscle tee and pulled it off in a similar fashion. The two men were hovering inches from each other, their bare torsos glistening in the moonlight. 

Dom planted his strong hands against the taller man’s back and drew him in so he could run his mouth along Brian’s collarbone and neck. In the compact cabin of the Dodge, their bodies were constantly touching, but each new contact made Dom shudder like it was the first. He was overwhelmed by Brian’s scent–sweat and the Pacific Ocean, burnt rubber lingering from the race just hours ago. He smelled like the City of Angels itself, but with a rawness that was so uniquely _Brian_. It drove Dom crazy, and he would never get enough of it. 

Brian could feel the contours of Dom’s abs as he pressed harder against him. His hands found themselves on either side of Dom’s face, locking both of them into an intoxicating kiss. Brian was acutely aware of their heavy, intermingled breaths, of the taste of Toretto and the hardness of the other man’s erection under his own. Brian ground down on Dom with his hips and the other racer bit his lip again, hands moving to Brian’s hips. The blond repeated the movement, his breath ragged with arousal. “ _Fuck,_ ” he bit out as Dom’s hands reached to grope his ass. 

“O’Conner.” Dom’s voice was strained, but still deep and powerful. He inhaled sharply when Brian lowered his mouth to his neck, softly kissing and biting around his adam’s apple. “Tell me what you want.” Brian lifted his head and stilled his movements to capture Dom’s eyes in a searing gaze. 

“I want you.” The three words, barely over a whisper, were all that Dom needed to hear. In a beat he had Brian under him, bracing himself above the man with his muscular arms. His eyes hungrily swept over the sight of his lover, flushed, sweaty, softly illuminated by the moon glowing on the distant horizon. Everything that wasn’t Brian seemed to fall away. The blond locked Dom in a penetrating stare as he deliberately undid the button of his own jeans. His hands were trembling with desire when they moved slowly– _too_ slowly–to Dom’s own zipper. Brian smirked, not once breaking eye contact, and his fingers teasingly hooked under the band of Dom’s pants. It was nearly too much for the man. 

“Brian…” He tried to make it a tone of warning, but his voice betrayed his desperation. He needed this man. Now.

Dom crashed his lips against the blond’s and Brian’s arms flew around his neck. The kiss was full of hunger, promise, and something deep between the two racers, but it wasn’t close enough. Still bracing himself with one arm, Dom’s other hand reached down to tug Brian’s pants away, freeing his erection. The blond gasped into their kiss when Dom took him into his hand. Their movements were slowly losing grace, becoming frantic as they lost composure in each other’s embrace. Dom roughly nudged Brian’s hip and in a flurry of movements in the compact, steamy heat of the Dodge, O’Conner was on his stomach and Dom was furiously rolling a condom over his member. He lovingly squeezed a handful of Brian’s ass and planted a kiss on the man’s glistening, muscular back. 

Dom couldn’t stifle his moan as he eased into his lover. The feeling was pure ecstasy, and Brian’s breathy sigh was enough to make him melt then and there. They slowed down to stillness for a moment, just appreciating the other’s heavy breaths and reveling in the heat of the car and the moment. Dom intertwined his fingers with Brian’s above the blond’s head and began to move. Brian immediately began to shift with him, not even needing the time to find a rhythm; they knew each other in the most intimate ways and didn’t fumble with each other when it came to having sex. At a certain point in their relationship, the fucking had turned to love-making, and now they effortlessly shared the road, feeling the other’s gear shifts and lane changes as acutely as their own. This was the closeness that they were craving, the absolute loss of the self in the other. And Dom was certainly losing himself in the planes of Brian’s back, in the feel of him, in his moans and sighs and heavy breaths. As they sped up, Brian’s fingers tightened their grip on Dom’s and the man on top leaned forward to plant kisses on the side of Brian’s neck, his other arm snaking across the man’s chest to hold him. Brian turned his head and sloppily kissed Dom in his breathlessness. Dom’s mouth was all over the blond and when he softly bit a forming hickey, Brian’s moan of his name sent him over the edge. Dom tensed and shuddered as all his walls came crashing down. He pulled Brian close in his sensation and the blond cried out his name again, and again, arching against his lover in his own release. 

When he roused from his clouded reverie, Brian found himself lying in the envelope of Dom’s body. The man’s arms were strong and comforting in the way they held Brian against his chest, and Dom had buried his face in the crook of Brian’s neck to plant soft, loving kisses on the soft skin. He sighed deeply, taking in Toretto’s smell and heat, the feeling of his bare chest against Brian’s own back, the gentle brush of the man’s fingers across his chest. He felt more relaxed than he had in days, and the drowsiness from the past 24 hours finally began to catch up with him. He attempted to shift out of Dom’s grasp, but the burly mechanic tightened his grip and pulled him back into the embrace. Brian laughed softly.

“Dom…” he mumbled, too tired to really fight his lover’s grasp.

“Mm,” was all the response from Toretto.

“If we don’t move I’m going to fall asleep,” Brian voiced hoarsely.

“Mmm,” came the unhelpful reply from behind him. _Oh well_ , Brian conceded with a deep sigh. There were worse ways to spend the night. He craned his neck to plant a kiss on Dom’s bicep. The muscle twitched and the man pulled Brian even closer against him. Then the blond was out.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_Saturday **** $177,830 + a 2002 Honda Civic_

* * *

They awoke just before dawn and drove back through the slowly brightening Santa Monica Mountains. The sleek black car expertly hugged the turns of Mulholland Drive, just as its driver expertly regulated the transfer of torque from the engine to the powerful wheels. At an overlook point, Dom pulled the Dodge over and the couple got out to take in the view. The sunrise-painted foothills gleamed a brilliant orange against the backdrop of a pink and pale blue sky. Sprawled before them, Los Angeles came to life. City lights were replaced by sunlight reflecting off downtown buildings, becoming brighter with each passing minute. In the foreground, the jumbled streets of central LA were cut by the 101. 

The couple leaned against the hood of the Dodge, Dom’s arms around his lover’s waist. Brian felt a new wave of fatigue start to weigh over him and he leaned back against Dom’s strong chest for support. It wasn’t an unpleasant fatigue; it was the same feeling he got the night after winning a race, when the adrenaline finally wears off and all that’s left is a satisfied exhaustion. Except this race wasn’t over yet.

“Ready to go kick some Scandinavian ass?” Dom asked, reaching up and gently turning his lover’s chin. He softly kissed the taller man’s lips. 

“I can’t wait to see the look on those bastards’ faces,” Brian grinned and turned to walk to the passenger’s side of the Dodge. Dom looked over the polished hood at the man who was his. O’Conner’s clothes were wrinkled from wearing them for two days straight, and his usually fresh face had been replaced by tired eyes and a 5 o’clock shadow. And yet he looked as stunning as ever. Golden light caught the highlights of his roughed-up curls while the subtle flex of his arm when he opened the car door showed his persistent strength. The breathtaking view behind the strapping racer paled in comparison to the confident and calm energy that emanated from his steady smile. Toretto felt incredibly at peace, gazing out at the man he loved framed by his beloved city. Brian had risked so much to help him and had made space for Dom to open up in a way he had never before. And most importantly, he had forgiven Dom when he messed up. The last few days had been no easy course, but there was no one Dom would rather have riding shotgun. 

They chased the morning sun into the valley, the roaring Dodge turning the heads of early commuters. It was hard to believe that in just a few hours the expressway would be a parking lot. Brian was thankful they had gotten out of the gate quickly. Dom’s fiery temper and need for speed didn’t hold up well against LA’s notorious traffic. 

Brian counted three other cars at the garage when they pulled in. He breathed a sigh of relief. Vince’s Jetta wasn’t among them. 

“Coffee?” Leon greeted Dom and Brian each with a steaming mug. 

“You’re a saint, man,” Brian said, eagerly taking his cup and chugging it. The racers exchanged greetings and pats on the back. The mood in the garage was lighter than it had been in days, but amidst the celebration Dom stayed quiet. His ears were listening for the low rumble of Audi 4.2 V8 engines that would signal the arrival of Ludvig and Isak. _A race isn’t over until the last debt is paid_ , he thought, remembering what his dad had always told him. Even though the racers in front of him had stepped up and made quick work of the Swedes’ monetary threat, the shock they had brought to the memory of his dad would last much longer. _I wonder how many other races he left unfinished._

Soon enough, the anticipated cars turned the corner. Toretto watched his spirited family transform into an intimidating racing team, their eyes trained on the Koenigsegg CCs in front of them. The crew stuck together through thick and thin, but they especially wouldn’t miss a victory lap. 

“Can’t believe I didn’t get to see these squashed tin cans the first time,” Roman scoffed at the tall men and their flattened vehicles. They approached the garage but stopped several feet in front of the door. Studying the bruises visible from their last visit, Brian couldn’t blame them for wanting to keep their distance.

“Gentlemen,” Isak nodded to the group, then added, “ladies,” with a sneer in the direction of Letty and Tessa. The glares he received in return were equally amiable. “I trust you know what day it is?”

“Let’s not make this any longer than we have to.” Dom’s resonant voice made it clear he wasn’t in the mood to play games. He motioned to Letty, who pulled a black briefcase off the desk and casually walked it up to the two men, dropping it in front of Ludvig so that it landed on his boot with a _thud_.

“Oops,” she smirked. 

Dom crossed his arms and leaned back against the Charger in a familiar stance, watching the scarred man pick up the briefcase and reveal the stacks inside. 

“What is this? There’s only $150,000 in here,” Ludvig looked up once he had finished counting it all. “Where’s the last $50,000?” The Scandinavians’ arrogance began to return to them as they considered the possibility that Toretto had not been able to deliver in time.

Dom stood up, a smile escaping his lips. “Look behind you.” 

The tall blond men spun around to see Roman pull up in the glowing Civic, the morning sun shooting off of the gold plated pipes. “This should more than cover it,” he hollered over the revving engine. Much to his delight, shock flashed across the men’s’ faces.

“Are we all done here?” Toretto asked. 

Isak and Ludvig looked back at the burly mechanic, then at each other. Isak nodded. “Yes, I suppose so,” he said. “We’ll accept the money and car as payment for your father’s debts.” They turned and started to walk down the ramp to Pearce, who stood holding the Honda’s keys.

“Not so fast,” Letty called, stopping the Swedes in their tracks. Dom recognized the mischievous gleam in her eye. _What is she up to?_ Letty waited for the visitors to make their way back into the doorway before continuing, “that money’s not yours.” 

Confused expressions were traded around the garage. Dom turned to Brian, expecting for his lover to be just as lost as he was, but instead he wore the same playful expression as Letty.

“What the hell is going on?” Ludvig asked, voicing Dom’s thoughts out loud. 

Brian stepped forward. “I asked the girls to look into something for me.” The golden-haired racer sauntered up next to Isak and Ludvig, taking a seat on the hood of the Supra. He paused, relishing the suspense.

“Based on everything you’ve told me about your dad, I couldn’t believe that he would ever run away from a racing debt.” Brian said, meeting Dom’s puzzled gaze. “So I thought I’d do some digging. Yesterday, when I went AWOL, I was actually meeting up with some old connections trying to figure out the real story.” Dom could tell the ex-cop was savoring every minute. Seeing Brian in detective mode reminded him of when they’d met, although Dom was glad to no longer be the target of Brian’s investigative focus. The blond had a way of slowing things down, turning every possibility in his mind until he could get behind one. For someone who had lived his whole life as fast and furiously as possible, it was refreshing for Dom to watch Brian’s steady intellect at work. “Ludvig and Isak, you met in prison?” Brian asked, in a tone that suggested he already knew the answer. 

“Ya.” The mulleted Swede managed to keep a sneer on his face, even in his bewilderment.

Brian trained his piercing blue eyes on Isak. “You were serving 6 months on a tax fraud charge, which is when you met Ludvig, who had done 3 out of 5 years for a drug trafficking stunt. You learned Ludvig had been a stock racer and the two of you decided to start a little hustling scheme.” Ludvig shot Brian a glare, but the strapping mechanic was already flying down the course and quickly gaining speed. “Once you both got out–using some bribery to commute the rest of your sentence–you set up shop at the Los Angeles County Raceway. It was a basic scumbag plan. Ludvig would challenge the stock racers who ran races at night, and you would place bets in the crowd against him. Then Ludvig would make sure he lost. Sometimes failing to bank a turn, sometimes being overpowered in the last second, occasionally spinning out of control for dramatic effect. It’s how you got that scar, isn’t it?”

Ludvig instinctively reached up to stroke the zig-zagged mark on his cheek.

“It was pretty lucrative, and none of the racers realized because they kept winning. That is, until Toretto appeared on the scene. He noticed pretty quickly that something wasn’t right. He raced by a strict code and didn’t take kindly to cheating, so when he figured out what you two were doing he challenged you to a race. Since he was a newcomer, it was easy for you to pick up wagers. Ludvig was careful to stay just a nose behind him the first two tenths of the track, but in the final seconds Toretto swerved the car off the track, ensuring that you crossed the finish line first. He did lose to you, but he wasn’t the one that owed money.”

Brian sat back, taking his foot off the gas for just a moment. The Swedes looked like two wrecks spewing smoke on the side of the expressway. 

“You have no proof of this!” The mulleted man sputtered. 

Now it was Letty’s turn. She walked over to the desk and picked up a manila folder, dramatically running her finger down the columns of information. “According to the Raceway’s logs, you quit after just a few months of racing there, while Dom’s dad stayed on for several years after.” Keeping her eyes trained on the two men, she tossed the folder over her shoulder. “He never skipped town, boys. You did.”

Dom hadn’t known how much tension and anxiety had been knotted inside him until he processed his teammate’s words and felt it all fall away. The story Brian told seemed almost too good to be true, a perfectly timed saving grace. But seeing his team’s excitement, Dom realized their explanation was the missing fuel pump that fit the engine into place. The Swede’s version of his father had seemed like a stranger. His dad had taught him everything he knew about right and wrong, and Dom felt deep down that he would never betray that code. Searching for what to believe, he glanced across the garage at his lover. O’Conner was beaming, no longer able to keep the composed detective act together. The confidence radiating off the blond was all Dom needed to know the truth. He felt pride swell in his chest. His father had stood up against those assholes and schemed them right back. 

Recovering his poise, the burly mechanic let out a low chuckle. “What an interesting turn of events.” Isak and Ludvig looked even more beat up than they had when Brian dragged them across the asphalt that night. Eyes wide with panic, the two men exchanged a look and then rapidly bolted toward their cars. 

“You’re fuckin’ kidding,” Leon groaned, throwing his hands up in the air.

But an instant later, the Civic at the end of the driveway came to life. Roman calmly waited till the scurrying men were a few feet away, then pulled up to block their path. The Swedes were unable to stop their momentum and they collided with the purple hatchback’s doors, crumpling onto the street. 

“Holy shit,” Brian laughed.

The team walked out to where Isak and Ludvig lay groaning. 

“Nice driving,” Dom joked to Roman, who shut the Honda off and climbed out. 

Letty reached down and picked up the briefcase lying next to Ludvig. “I believe this is ours.”

Dom looked down at the sorry excuses of men. Real racers drove their cars for the love of speed, the feeling of a powerful vehicle under their feet. He was disgusted by the thought of cheating in its own right, but the idea of someone disrespecting the race enough to lose on purpose was just insulting. _And then they covered it all in a lie about my father?_ Dom could feel the anger inside him rising to the temperature of a combustion chamber. 

“Your first mistake was messing with my family,” he growled, hands clenching at his sides. Rage filled his vision. “Your second mistake was thinking we’d let you.” The burly mechanic tried to raise his fist but was stopped in mid-air. Brian had grabbed Dom’s forearm with his strong hands. 

“Dom! It’s not worth it.” O’Conner could see the anger and pain in his lover’s eyes. Dom had come a long way from the reckless young man who had beaten his father’s killer an inch from his life, and he wasn’t going to watch him throw away what they’d built together. Brian knew he had the strength to walk away. 

Like a jump start awakening a car battery, Brian’s touch was exactly what Dom needed to bring him back to reality. He couldn’t let his anger get the best of him. He couldn’t do that to Brian.

Isak sat up and spit a mouthful of blood onto the road next to him. “What are you going to do?” He jeered.

Dom paused and looked around at the circle of racers. These men and women were his family. And with their help, he’d already won. “Nothing you haven’t already done to yourself,” he said, turning his back on the beaten men and walking back into his garage. 

Brian had insisted on driving, and Dom was glad to have the opportunity to collect his thoughts. He also didn’t mind the chance to watch the strapping racer work the gearshift with his expert hands. 

“Never thought I’d miss this rough ride,” Dom chuckled, looking around the inside of the Supra. 

Brian rolled his eyes. “This rough ride helped win you 150K and a new car.” Brian playfully scolded. “Which you now get to keep all of.”

Toretto was still in awe that Brian had uncovered the Swedes’ ploy. “How’d you know, sugar? How’d you know they were lying?”

Brian took a deep breath in, trying to recall through the sleeplessness and drama of the past few days. “Intuition I guess. But mostly like I said, I couldn’t imagine that your dad would run like that. After asking an old friend at the police station to go through their records, I called up the Raceway and tracked down some guy named Shen who was the manager when your dad raced there. He gave me a list of other stock racers. I went around visiting them till I found one who remembered your dad facing off against two ‘dirtbag hustlers,’ as he called them.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. Yesterday was so complicated, and then last night was...well, last night was crazy.” A shudder ran through him just thinking about their bodies together in the moonlight. “And I wasn’t even sure Letty and Tessa would be able to find any solid proof.”

Dom felt a tug deep in his chest. He lived his life on loyalty and trust. And yet while he had been obsessing over thoughts about Brian cheating, the detective had been running himself ragged around the city trying to clear his father’s name. “Jesus, Brian, you did so much.” He paused, taking in the warm look on his lover’s face. “You _always_ do so much. You take care of me in a way no one else has done before. I–I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Of course I take care of you, babe.” The blond reached over and gently placed his hand on Dom’s strong leg.

Dom sighed. Brian made him want to be better–a better racer, a better leader to the crew, a better partner. But Toretto couldn’t help but feel like he hadn’t held up his end of the race. “I’m sorry. I got so caught up in my worries, I made up that the whole world was against me. I’m surrounded by people sacrificing so much to help me, but I blinded myself to it. Instead of recognizing everything you were doing, I was stupid and got angry at you.” He turned to the window and stared out at the city rushing by. “I don’t deserve you, O’Conner.”

Brian took his hand off of Dom’s thigh and grabbed the gearshift. His feet alternated between brake and clutch, shifting down until the Supra came to a screeching stop on the shoulder of the 101. Dom, who had frantically clutched onto the passenger door at the unexpected move, wore a startled expression on his face. 

“Listen to me, Dom.” Brian’s voice sounded even deeper than usual, if possible. “I didn’t quit being a cop because I got tired of the paperwork, or because I thought I should try my luck on the track. I quit because I couldn’t be part of a justice system that labels you a criminal. When I was dealing with those cops the other night, after our race, and I heard how McLeery talked about you… I knew I couldn’t be on that side of the law.” His blue eyes were filled with sincerity, and they seemed to pierce through Dom. “You are the most principled man I’ve ever met. From day one, I’ve admired how you take care of yours. Of course it’s hard to step back and let them help you. But I will support you no matter what, Dom, because I love you.”

Brian kept his eyes trained on Toretto, watching carefully as the burly mechanic dropped his head, overwhelmed with emotions. O’Conner’s words had filled him with a tender warmth, like the humming of a perfectly tuned engine. He looked back up at his man who impressed him beyond all measure. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Dom said at last, his love for Brian fully communicated through his deep brown eyes. “I love you, too. More than I ever thought possible.” Admiration swelled inside him. Not only had Brian proved the Swedes were liars, but he had also given him a new connection to his dad. Toretto couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face.

“What is it now?” Brian asked, surprised by the sudden happiness on his lover’s expression.

“Who knew seducing a cop would come in so handy?” Dom laughed. 

Brian did his best to look unamused, but he too was smiling. He reached for the gearshift and eased back into the buzzing lanes of the expressway.

A certain peace of mind overcame Dominic Toretto as he watched the man he loved steer into the driveway of their house. He patted the side of the Supra, feeling himself like a junkyard scrap that had been painstakingly restored to supercar status. O’Conner cut the engine and the two men stepped out. Before the blond could head up the driveway, however, Toretto walked to his side of the car. He pressed Brian gently against the bright orange Toyota and gave him a long kiss. “I’m so happy you’re in my life, cowboy,” he whispered. 

Sounds of meal prep drifted to them from the back of the house. The two lovers turned and headed in the direction of the laughter. 

“For two good racers it sure takes you a long time to get here,” Pearce joked. Brian hungrily eyed the spread on the table.

“Dom.” Mia was standing by the grill. Toretto could tell from the relief on her face that she was up to speed. He walked over and embraced his sister. A tear fell from the beautiful woman’s cheek and landed on his arm. At last, they broke away, but Dom kept one arm around Mia. Together, they watched the crew set up platters and dishes. 

“Dad would be proud to be a part of this family,” Mia said, and Dom nodded in agreement. 

The two siblings walked together to the table, taking their respective places at the two heads. 

“Who’s gonna say grace?” Leon asked, not daring to make a move towards the food, even though his rumbling stomach was audible throughout the yard. 

“I will,” Dom said. He clasped his strong hands and looked up at the afternoon LA sky. “When we were faced by this challenge a few days ago, I was completely confident that you all would join me, no matter how impossible it seemed. And I knew that you would make the impossible possible. No one could ask for a better team. For a better family. Thank you, Lord, for this table of exceptional racers.” Toretto paused, taking time to look at each of the faces around him. “And thank you for fast cars,” he added. “Amen.”

The other racers smiled as they opened their eyes. “Amen,” they echoed. Dom glanced at Brian to his right and gave him a wink. His lover seemed to glow as bright as a newly polished car, and soon Dom was grinning too.


End file.
